


Keeping Up

by Abracabadger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Bullying, Every Day I’m Huffling, F/M, Friendship, Growing Up, Hippogriffs, Hufflepuffs, Hufflepuffs Being Adorable, If Your Quidditch Player Looks Like This He Is Definitely A Keeper, N.E.W.T.s, OOTP From Across The Great Hall, Quidditch, Seventh-year, Slowmance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2020-10-19 02:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 253,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20650085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abracabadger/pseuds/Abracabadger
Summary: For the first time in seven years, Cedric Diggory won’t be on the start-of-term Express to Hogwarts. Instead, his friends return to school for their final and most stressful year, still trying to adjust to the loss of their best mate amidst rapidly-escalating tensions in the classrooms and the corridors. Together, they must negotiate Quidditch, life, love, and learning, all while the Ministry of Magic is more intent on disrupting their education than dealing with the looming threat of the most feared dark wizard of the age - and that’s without the small matter of the end-of-year exams that will affect the rest of their lives.A story about keeping on, about keeping it together. A story about keeping up.





	1. A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Four years ago, I thought I’d start a little yarn about what it was like to play Quidditch for someone outside Gryffindor. As my story ideas often seem to do, that quickly grew legs and became something much more ambitious, a retelling of one of the most fascinating school years in the HP world from the perspective of the emotionally-bruised Hufflepuffs that had been Cedric Diggory’s close friends, now trying to cope with their N.E.W.T. year amidst Umbridge’s insanity. They don’t know everything Harry and friends know, and bring their own perspective to the many ‘noodle incidents’ mentioned in passing in canon. Amidst all this is a tight group of friends having fun, sharing frustrations, falling out and making up, facing the future in a changing world, growing up… and falling in love. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> The story is complete at 34 chapters and c. 255k words, and you can expect new chapters regularly while I check things over and give it a final polish.

The greatest thing about the Hogwarts Express wasn’t going back to Hogwarts - honestly, who really wanted to go back to schoolwork and all its attendant frustrations and struggles after the holidays - it was seeing all your mates again, all in one place, with nothing better to do than catch up on everything that had happened since you saw them last. That, combined with the Welcoming Feast, which was always fantastic, meant that you were in a sort of good-natured stupor when the first day of class rolled around the next morning.

Tamsin Applebee kissed her parents goodbye one last time, and stepped into one of the huge red carriages of the Express with barely a backward glance, already anticipating seeing her friends. _And definitely not because I always feel a bit watery-eyed at farewells_. Their carriage was second from the front, and they always occupied the front two compartments. The front carriages usually filled last, as people couldn’t be bothered to trail all the way along the platform if they didn’t have to, and that meant that whoever of their group that arrived first could claim their territory and defend it until the others arrived.

There was the usual, fantastic whirl of familiar faces as she shuffled along the narrow corridor with her trunk bumping along behind her, heading for the grinning figure of Ravi Singh, who was waving her down like bringing a ship into port. _My arse isn’t _that _big after the holidays, I hope_!

That fleeting thought was lost when Ravi pulled her into a tentative hug. “Hey, Tammy!”

She laughed and squeezed him back, firmly. “Looking good, Ravi! How was your holidays?”

“Great! I spent half of them with my auntie and her family in Leicester, and last night they had a big party for me and Jasmin. It’s a good thing the train doesn’t go until eleven, or we’d have missed it!” He ran a hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his impeccably-neat, dark hair. “So, what’s it going to be this year? It’s just me and Becky in here, so far,” he said, jerking a thumb to his right and nearly bonking a small, blonde girl in the nose as she stepped out of the compartment. 

“Ravi!” she exclaimed, swatting his hand out of the way.

“Sorry, sorry!”

She huffed indignantly, but still smiled at Tammy. “Good to see you, Tammy! Ready for another year with these lunatics?”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she said, giving Becky a quick hug. “I’ll dump my trunk in with you, if that’s all right, then say ‘Hi’ to everyone else. ‘Scuse me.”

She squeezed past and hoisted her trunk up into the racking.

“You could have just shrunk it, you know,” Ravi pointed out.

“I could have, but my shrinking charms suck and I’ve put far too much in it for it to shrink properly,” she admitted. “I managed with a full-sized trunk when I was a titch, so it’s not exactly a hardship now.”

“You do seem to have grown a little since then,” said Becky. Tammy laughed. She did rather tower over her diminutive fellow blonde. 

“Must be all those Hogwarts dinners.”

“They don’t seem to have done you any harm,” said Ravi. He and Becky stepped back, allowing her out into the corridor again.

She winked saucily and pulled open the door to the next compartment. “Let’s see who we have behind door number two!”

Four cheery faces looked up at her, and there was a cry of, “Tammy!” in a broad Irish accent and, before she could blink, she’d been seized in a tight hug.

She grinned into the muscular girl’s dark brown hair. “Anyone would think you haven’t seen me in ages, Maxi!”

“And so I haven’t, ya big arse!” Maxine O’Flaherty said, flopping back down in her seat next to a dark-haired boy with twinkling blue eyes. 

“I would say ‘Hi’ like that, Tammy, but Maxi would hex me wobbly bits off if I did,” he said, with a wicked grin. Mike McManus was just as Irish as his girlfriend, but his accent was more smooth Galway charm than Maxi’s feisty Sligo burr. Maxi just rolled her eyes at him and whacked him lightly on the arm. “Vicious woman! See? She wounds me if I so much as look at another girl!”

“And you’d deserve it if ya grabbed her arse like ya did mine, earlier,” Maxi grumbled. 

“Ya weren’t complaining then, me darlin’!”

Tammy suppressed a chuckle at their familiar, rather rough, jousting. Perhaps they were gentler with each other in private, but everyone else got to see a relationship where the passion was sometimes hard to distinguish from open warfare.

“I hope you’re not too henpecked to say ‘Hi’, Chris.”

The boy in the corner prised himself out of his window seat to give her a welcoming hug, and she nearly disappeared in his arms. He was a tall, hulking, slightly overweight lad with a shy smile and a very gentle nature, almost as if he found his sheer size an embarrassment. “Good to see you, Tammy. Don’t let the old married couple get to you.”

She laughed and turned to the last person in the compartment, a slender, olive-skinned girl that was grinning shyly at her from her seat by the window opposite Chris. “Last as usual, Michelle?”

The girl tucked a strand of her shoulder-length black hair behind one ear, brown eyes twinkling almost as much as Mike’s did. “Good things come to those who wait, or something. How was Paris?”

“Great! Mum and Dad took me around all the usual stuff, but I had a couple of days to myself, as well.” 

Ravi and Becky were leaning in the door to hear, and she went to drop into the seat next to Michelle as she talked, then remembered and sat one seat over, leaving the one between them free. Michelle raised an eyebrow and interrupted.

“Do I smell, or something?”

“What? Nah, that seat’s taken.”

The others started to grin as Michelle said, “No, it isn’t?” with her usual obliviousness.

“It will be in a minute, though, here comes Evan,” said Ravi, trying to hold in outright laughter.

Michelle, predictably, blushed. “He can sit wherever he likes.”

Tammy laughed knowingly, “I know he can - and because I know _just _where it is that he likes, I’m staying over here!”

She heard Evan’s familiar, quiet voice as he exchanged greetings with Ravi and Becky as he left his trunk in their compartment. Turning her head, she could see his silhouette through the frosted glass pane behind her and, a few moments later, he ducked his head and stepped into the compartment.

People-watching was something Tammy found endlessly fascinating, and Michelle - or more specifically, Michelle’s relationship with Evan - was both baffling and intriguing to her in equal measure. As soon as he walked in, his pale-blue eyes went straight to the girl in the corner and he gave her a warm smile even as he exchanged hugs and greetings with everyone else. As always, Michelle’s face lit up when she saw him, but after giving Tammy a quick squeeze he was about to sit down, and she couldn’t resist.

“What, no hug for Michelle, Evan?” she asked, her faux-innocence making the others laugh.

Michelle blushed fiercely, but Evan’s lip just quirked up in amusement. “You need a hug, Michelle? I mean, it’s been a whole week since Diagon Alley, after all.”

It bugged the hell out of her that Evan was pretty much embarrassment-proof when it came to being teased about Michelle. As a consolation, the reverse was definitely not true.

“Oh, if I have to, I suppose.” Michelle’s tone was light and jocular, but there was no missing the way she melted into his embrace. Somehow, without being particularly demonstrative, it was clear that this wasn’t just the usual, ‘Hi, good to see you’ hug, and Tammy suddenly felt bad for teasing her friends - even if she would never, _ever_ understand why they weren’t going out. 

“Wow, a whole week apart? Must be a record for you guys. I notice I didn’t get a hug like that, Michelle!” Mike teased them.

Michelle flopped back in her seat, fanning her reddened face with one hand, but that didn’t kill her happy smile. Evan, of course, sat next to her. 

“That’s because Maxi would kill you!” Becky said.

“Very true,” Michelle said, before changing the subject. “Now come on, Tammy, let’s hear about Paris!”

“Yeah, now that the gang’s all here-” said Mike. There was a sudden silence and Mike went white.

“Not all of them,” Ravi said quietly. Abruptly, all the good humour and jokes had vanished.

Last year, Cedric Diggory had entered the Triwizard Tournament. He’d distinguished himself throughout, but no matter what the true course of events was surrounding the final task, the fact of the matter was that he hadn’t come out alive. All of Hufflepuff had been shattered by his death, their best and brightest and also one of the nicest people you could wish to meet, but now his friends and roommates had the additional heartache of returning to school, where the stark reality of his absence that they’d begun to come to terms with over the summer would be in their faces constantly. This was the first time in seven years that Cedric wouldn’t be on the start-of-term Express with them to Hogwarts.

“Has anyone heard from Helga?” Chris asked, more to break the silence than anything, although they would miss her this year, too.

“She sent me a letter a few weeks ago, her parents have moved back to the Netherlands again and she’s gone with them. She’s goin’ to the Helsinki Academy for her last year,” said Maxi.

The van Doorens had extended their magical freight business to the UK around fifteen years ago, as well as sending all three of their daughters to Hogwarts. Helga had made no secret that her parents were increasingly-nervous about the situation developing in Britain and, after the events of the previous year, had quickly decided to sell up and get out. It would be very odd not to see the statuesque blonde girl around Hogwarts this year.

“Ah, where else would ya find a Finishing School, but in Finland?”

Everyone groaned, but somehow, Mike’s terrible joke was what they needed to break the sombre atmosphere. There was a small jolt and metallic sigh, and Tammy saw the buildings of King’s Cross slide past their window with gradually increasing speed. She felt a sudden burst of excitement.

“We’re off, everyone! Hogwarts, here we come!”

* * * * *

The Hogwarts Express roared across the Home Counties countryside, tearing north non-stop through gaps in the National Rail timetables that the Muggles didn't even notice existed. Inside, Maxi and Mike disappeared to go to the Prefects’ meeting - and, perhaps, to make up for lost time somewhere quiet - and the others began to disperse through the train, catching up with friends. Michelle had taken up Maxi's old spot, letting Evan stretch out his long legs across the whole row of seats and stare out the window, lost in thought. She didn't mind too much, because she could have a great catch-up with Chris, but her eyes kept being drawn back to her best friend.

Evan had been close to his usual self when everyone was together - not exactly the life and soul of the party like Mike, but involved and ready for a laugh - but when Ravi and Becky left to find Megan Beckton, a friend from Ravenclaw, he subsided into a moody silence. Moody? Thoughtful, perhaps. He was never particularly verbose, but this seemed a little more than his usual reticence. So she watched, and waited, and worried. She did a lot of that, when it came to Evan. No wonder Tammy teased her about it.

She had a fair idea what he was thinking about - the elephant in the room that Mike had inadvertently tripped over. Cedric. Prefect and Quidditch captain, and absolutely nailed-on for Head Boy this year, it was impossible to overstate how central he'd been to the group of boys in his year. Cedric had been a natural leader, inspiring loyalty as well as being a good and sincere friend. Evan, she knew, had trusted and believed in Cedric fiercely. They all had. And now, with him gone... she didn't quite know what that would mean for those of them left behind. It still didn’t seem real, somehow. She had shed more than a few tears over her friend, as had the others. Even now, it seemed impossible that he wouldn't burst in, handsome and tousle-haired, with some sort of self-deprecating quip for being late. 

She wouldn't admit it to the others, but she was a little relieved that Helga wasn't returning. They had never gotten along especially well, Michelle finding her too self-centred and domineering for her taste. Becky didn't like her much, either, but that may have had something to do with Helga horning in on her boyfriend of the time during fifth-year. Maxi and Tammy had liked her, though, as did Chris and Mike, and she was honest enough to admit that some of her disapproval was probably down to the attempts to turn her charms on Evan last year. She had tried to hide her satisfaction as he first ignored her and then, when she persisted, quietly told her where to get off.

She had noticed when they met at Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies that he had filled out a little more since last year, too, adding some muscle to the sudden spurt of height he'd put on last winter. In fact, he was looking pretty dishy, in her opinion, with his sandy-blond hair and those wonderfully blue eyes... she reeled her thoughts in, feeling a familiar burn in her cheeks coming on. Again. _I really ought to do something about that, I just can't decide what - for all that everyone else wants to chip in with their two penn'orth_. But more importantly, it wasn't exactly hard to work out that he was worried and probably wondering how ready he was to return to Hogwarts, thoughts she could easily identify with. She was content to give him the space he needed to think. If he wanted to talk about it, he would do so in his own time, and she'd be ready to listen. He'd done the same for her often enough.

* * * * *

Evening had fallen by the time the Express began to slow and took the fork towards Hogsmeade, and the gloomy overcast made it near fully dark when it finally pulled in to the station. It was something of a relief to get off the train and stretch their legs properly, stepping out into the usual chaos on the platform. Pets and familiars hooted and miaoued, while Hagrid stood at one end holding a lantern on a long pole and calling for the first-years to assemble. Michelle was rather relieved to get a carriage with Evan, Ravi and Becky for the trip up to the castle.

In contrast to the moonless night, light flooded out of the Great Hall, lit by hundreds of candles that floated above the tables. They made their way to the Hufflepuff table and found seats about a third of the way along, the air ringing with the hubbub of cheerful voices full of summer news and gossip. 

“Heads up for the new Defence teacher, said Becky cheerfully, taking her seat, “I wonder what sort of weirdo they’ve landed us with this year?”

“Must be that lady, there,” said Chris, pointing. “What do we reckon?”

Perched stiffly upright in her chair next to Dumbledore was a very short, rather broad woman, dressed in a fluffy pink cardigan and matching hair band, with an odd, simpering yet supercilious look on her face.

Mike squinted critically at her for a moment. “Serial killer,” he announced decisively. “Killed her last six husbands, an’ now she’s moved here with her latest squeeze.”

“Then maybe she’ll marry Professor Snape, if we’re lucky,” said Ravi. 

“Colour-blind ghoul in disguise?” suggested Maxi.

“Nah, she’s got to be part Fwooper,” said Evan, stifling a chuckle.

“Oh, belt up, you lot! I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“I’d say the evidence is pretty strongly against you there, Tammy,” said Becky.

Chris grinned slyly. “Professor Lockhart was pretty harmless, though, wasn’t he, Becky?”

Becky blushed. “Oh, shut up!”

Any further debate was quickly hushed when the doors to the Entrance Hall swung open and Professor McGonagall strode to the front of the hall, carrying a simple, wooden stool and a tattered, much-patched wizard’s hat in her arms while a nervous-looking gaggle of first-years trailed behind her.

“Ssh, the Sorting’s about to start!” Becky exclaimed.

“Yeah, no kidding?” said Mike, rolling his eyes. “What gave it away?”

That earned him disapproving glares from both Becky and his girlfriend throughout the Sorting Hat’s song, but he just grinned impudently, knowing he was safe from any retribution - until it was over, anyway.

“Abercrombie, Euan!”

With that, the Sorting was underway.

Some time around ‘Tallisker, Hortense’ joining Ravenclaw, Michelle leaned close to Evan to whisper, “So, what do you make of them so far?”

He grinned, turning to whisper in her ear, “Were we ever that titchy? Hard to believe, isn’t it?” 

Candlelight sparkled in his blue eyes, making her breathing hitch.

“Just a bit. Any Quidditch talent, do you think?”

“Yeah, this one’ll be a great Chaser in a few years,” Evan said, his breath warm on her cheek as ‘Zeller, Rose’ became a Hufflepuff and concluded the Sorting. His arm was warm under her hand. 

She shivered, and tried to focus.”You reckon?”

“I guess we’ll have to come back in a few years and see!”

“Cut it out, you two! hissed Tammy and Chris, as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet at the high table, stretching his arms wide to encompass the whole hall in a welcoming gesture.

“To our newcomers - welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in, everyone!”

There was some surprised laughter and a few cheers as the old man sat down again and food began to appear on the tables in huge quantities.

“Finally! I could eat a horse!” groaned Becky, grabbing a bread roll and buttering it as fast as she could.

“I think we can do a little better than horse, my dear!” exclaimed the Friar, who was floating along the rows of students to welcome them back to his ghostly home. “Now then, which of you young gentlemen are going to carve? You’re seventh-years now, so you’ve got to set a good example to the others.”

Ravi, Chris, Evan, and Mike exchanged uneasy looks, before Ravi shrugged and stood up, grabbing a carving set and pulling a roasted turkey a little closer to him. “I’ll do this one. Pitch in, the rest of you! I’m not going to do this all night!”

Mike took charge of a huge beef joint closer to the front of the long table, leaving Chris and Evan looking at each other sheepishly.

“Go on, Evan, you have that ham and I’ll murder that poor, innocent leg of lamb, down there,” Chris sighed.

“All right, then.”

“Oh, jolly good! Come on, now, don’t let it get cold!” the Friar said, rubbing his translucent hands together in gleeful anticipation. It was a little sad to realise that for all his obvious longing, the Friar couldn’t partake.

* * * * *

Evan squeezed between two expectant fourth-years and started gingerly sawing away at his hammy foe. The other houses received their feast-meats pre-sliced by the house elves, but for some obscure reason, Hufflepuff house took it as a point of honour for the boys of the eldest year to serve the rest of the house. Quickly filling plates as they were passed to him, he had to admit that it was kinda fun, and by forcing them to interact with all their housemates rather than just sit and stuff their faces, it strengthened the bonds with his fellow Hufflepuffs and also broke the ice with the firsties. The older students weren’t quite so scary after they’d passed you a plate full of food.

“Oh, servant! Servant! A little ham, if you please?” rang out a voice from behind him. He turned casually, the long carving knife clutched ostentatiously in his hand, to stare down the tall, thin, black seventh-year in the green-trimmed robes. The boy’s housemates laughed, but Evan ignored them, holding his gaze until his foe grinned. “Good to see you, Evan.”

“You, too, Gabriel,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Gabriel held out his plate with an impudent smile and accepted a few slices of ham. “Your performance is acceptable, I suppose,” he said in a carrying voice.

“Cheeky bastard! I’ve got a knife,” Evan said without heat.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, “Just a shame you don’t know how to use it. See you in class tomorrow.”

With everyone eating and his ham-fisted hamicide complete, Evan retreated to his seat to find Michelle had already snagged a plateful for him - beef, roasted potatoes, beans, cauliflower, and a Yorkshire pudding.

“All right, Evan? That should get you started.”

“Yeah. Thanks for this,” he said, reaching for a gravy boat. 

“No problem. Although I don’t know why you put up with Engel giving you a hard time,” she added, a little stiffly.

He shrugged. “Gabriel’s all right. You just have to get his sense of humour.” She snorted, showing her opinion, but he did get a giggle out of her when he added, “Hey, I was wielding the Sword of Hufflepuff. If he gave me too much crap, I’d pin him down with the Fork of Great Justice and carve horrible, raggedy, uneven slices off him!”

“You didn’t do that bad of a job,” she said loyally.

“Let’s just say I won’t count on making a career out of it any time soon.”

Despite the hard labour, the feast was every bit as wonderful as they’d come to expect. Gradually, as stomachs were filled, the noise level steadily rose and the empty platters and serving bowls were replaced by puddings of all descriptions.

Michelle and Evan were watching with awe as Becky demolished a third helping of trifle when Professor Dumbledore rose from his gilded chair again, and silence fell across the Great Hall almost instantly. 

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” he began. “First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.”

There were a few poorly-stifled chuckles at this, most notably from the Gryffindor table.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door.

“We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

They applauded Professor Grubbly-Plank’s return politely - they had nothing against Hagrid, but Professor Grubbly-Plank tended to be at least vaguely aware of her creatures’ life-threatening capabilities in a way that Hagrid simply wasn’t - but that applause died an apathetic death when it came to the new Defence teacher, Professor Umbridge. She would be up against it from the start with students jaded by the parade of her incompetent, self-obsessed, lunar-challenged, and, frankly, homicidal predecessors. 

Dumbledore continued, “Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the -”

He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge, who had risen to her feet and was clearing her throat in an annoyingly-fussy manner. “_Hem, hem!_”

Dumbledore looked rather startled at the interruption, but sat quickly and assumed a look of interest as the little woman continued in a high-pitched, shrill voice.

“Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!”

“What the hell is she doing?!” they heard a flabbergasted fourth-year a few seats away exclaim quietly, “It’s _Dumbledore_! You don’t interrupt Dumbledore!”

“The kid’s got a point,” Evan said quietly, his eyebrows raised. “Look at Professor McGonagall.”

“Yeah, she looks like she’s about to hex her! Still, Dumbledore seems to want to see where she’s going with this,” said Tammy.

“We should probably be listening,” said Maxi, rather unconvincingly.

“Surely will, me darlin’, just as soon as she says something worth listening to,” said Mike, reaching for another slice of spotted dick. “I’ll not be holding me breath, mind!”

Oblivious to their muted conversation and, it seemed, pretty much everything else, Professor Umbridge rattled on and on, and the longer she went on, the more the students’ interest waned. The general gist seemed to be that they had to advance on all fronts while retreating as fast as possible, and that they must embrace change without actually changing anything. Whatever all that was supposed to mean, the hot air continued for quite some time.

“Well. I can see that Defence is going to be a laugh a minute, this year,” Chris scowled. 

“I was right, so I was. Serial killer,” said Mike decisively.

“Yeah, she bores her victims to death,” said Tammy, with a sigh. “Sorry for my momentary burst of blinding optimism when it comes to Defence teachers.”

“Oh well. Enjoy, you lucky lot!”

“You’re not doing Defence, Becky?” asked Evan.

“Nah. After last year, I decided that enough was enough. It looks like I made the right decision.”

“I’ll say!”

They continued to talk until a sudden silence swept back across the Hall from the front, and they looked up to realise that the new Professor had finally finished. There was some very half-hearted applause before Dumbledore took her place and resumed his previous announcements with his usual aplomb. “Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge. Now, as I was saying...”

He rattled through the usual words about Quidditch trials and the resumption of the school year - tomorrow being a Saturday, they would have a long week first up, with half-days of abbreviated classes on Saturday and Sunday being devoted to introductions to the year’s syllabus and refreshers on their previous years, before the normal timetable started on Monday. 

“I would like to have concluded the Welcoming Feast with the traditional singing of the school song,” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling, “Alas, my fellow teachers have prevailed upon me to forgo the pleasure. Perhaps you’ll all join me in _thinking _it on the way back to your common rooms, instead. After all, a free mind is a wonderful thing, indeed! Good night, everyone!”

There was some laughter and a loud clatter and scrape of benches and chairs

“Old Dumbledore’s really got some style, doesn’t he?” Chris chuckled.

“I loved that little crack about free thinking at the end after all that nonsense Umbridge was coming out with,” said Becky.

“That’s true, but don’t you lot shoot off just yet,” said Maxi, before raising her voice. “Can I have all the Hufflepuff first-years over here, please? Prefects, too.”

“Look out, she’s Prefect-ing,” Evan murmured to Michelle. “No wrong-doer is safe.”

Michelle laughed. “Should you be worried, then?”

“I think we all should. I know what she’s like, after seven years.”

“Now then, gather around, everyone,” Maxi said loudly, as the first-years reluctantly joined them. “Welcome ter Hogwarts and especially, welcome ter Hufflepuff. I’m Maxine O’Flaherty, and this is Mike McManus. We’re yer seventh-year prefects. Our sixth-years are Leah and Kevin - stick yer hands up, guys - and the fifth-years are Ernie and Hannah, over there. The other guys here are the rest of the seventh-years - Tammy, Becky, Chris, Michelle, Ravi, and Evan. Don’t worry too much about remembering everyone’s names right now, I just wanted ter introduce ya to everyone and let you know they don’t bite.”

“Oh, I do, but only if she asks nicely,” Mike said, grinning.

There were some giggles from the first-years, particularly the girls, while Maxi scowled fiercely at him.

“For crying out loud, Mike, can you lay off with anything too mentally scarring in front of the kids?” Tammy groaned, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

Maxi decided to ignore him, and continued, “If ya have any problems or questions, or ya get lost, or ya just want someone ter talk to, then any one of us can help. Ya can also talk ter our House ghost, the Friar, or ter Professor Sprout, our Head of House. I’m sure she’ll introduce herself to ya shortly. Now then, if you’d like to follow us, we’ll show ya how ter find the Hufflepuff common room and yer dorms.”

They all trailed after her out of the Great Hall and down the familiar staircase to the Hufflepuff common room. Every step felt like coming home again, a mingling of nostalgia and familiarity. Maxi spent some time explaining how the door to the common room worked, which barrels to touch, and the pattern required, and then they all trooped inside. 

* * * * *

The common room was buzzing with noise as their fellow Hufflepuffs resumed the conversations from the Great Hall and caught up with friends. Maxi and Mike led the firsties away to show them to their dorms, while Ravi and Evan made a beeline for Gwion Cadwallader, the hulking sixth-year Chaser from the Quidditch team, for a chat. Over in the corner, she could even see the corpulent, ghostly figure of the Friar, talking animatedly to Hannah Abbot, Laura Madley, and Owen Cauldwell. 

Michelle spent some time catching up with Leah and Roger from sixth-year, and was looking around, trying to decide whether to just go and start unpacking, when she spotted Professor Sprout shuffling her way across the crowded common room. The noise level fell somewhat when everyone noticed her. 

“Welcome back, everyone, it’s lovely to see you again,” she said cheerily. “A word with you, please, Mr. Fielding?”

Evan followed Professor Sprout back out of the Common Room, looking a little surprised.

“I wonder what that’s about?” Michelle said, half to herself.

“Quidditch, I’d expect,” said Maxi, popping up beside her and Tammy. “I think that’s why Mike got the prefect’s badge, she wanted ter split the jobs up.”

“I don’t think prefect is really Evan’s style, anyway,” said Tammy. “Quidditch Captain, though, definitely.”

Maxi shrugged. “Ah, well, it’s well-deserved, for sure. Anyway, That’s the firsties all settled in. Come on, now, we should go and get unpacked for the morrow. Race ya!”

Together, the four girls squeezed into the short corridor to their dorm, throwing open the familiar portal and charging inside to throw themselves full-length onto their beds, with the yellow-and-black trimmed quilts already turned down invitingly. 

Michelle, Tammy, and Maxi quickly rolled off and onto their feet again, pulling open the empty drawers of their dressers, but Becky simply flopped onto her back and threw her arms wide. “Ooooh, that was not a good idea! My stomach!”

“I thought you said you could eat a horse?” Tammy said, opening the lid of her trunk.

“I could’ve, but I think I ate an Abraxan, instead - wings and all,” she groaned. “Oh Merlin, I’m absolutely stuffed!”

“Ah, go on, get yerself up and moving about and you’ll be fine,” said Maxi cheerfully, throwing a pair of balled-up socks at her. 

“Yeah! Ah, here we go!” Tammy pulled a little box out of her trunk and set it on top of her dresser. She tapped it with her wand and a rapid, cheerful voice in a foreign tongue rang around the room. 

Michelle recognised it as a German station that Tammy was always listening to because they played more pop than the staid British channels, and sure enough, a few moments later came the perky opening chords of a Wands Afire song. “Oh, great! Turn it up, Tammy!”

Unpacking was definitely more fun with your toes tapping, and they quickly hauled Becky upright so she could join in. After a few minutes of complaint, she was bopping around with the rest of them, looking more like her usual self.

“Hey girls, watch this!” Maxi said, standing over her trunk with her wand poised. “Me mum taught me some packing spells last week - no reason why they shouldn’t put everythin’ in drawers too, right?”

She made a grand, sweeping gesture towards the dresser with her wand, exclaiming, “Pack!”

Clothing fountained up from her trunk, but rather than tuck itself neatly into drawers it rained down haphazardly all over the room, flapping and twisting aimlessly. The other girls howled with laughter, while Maxi pulled a pair of knickers off her head and put her hands on her hips with a face like thunder. “Well, crap!”

Becky was the first to recover. “I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen?” she asked, helpfully summoning socks and shirts.

“Strangely enough, no. Can someone get that bra down off the light-shade, fer crying out loud?”

“Oh, I dunno, it gives the place a sort of festive charm!”

Eventually, all of Maxi’s clothing was retrieved and piled on top of her dresser, leaving her to mutter fractiously now that she had to re-fold everything as well as put it away, but that wasn’t enough to dampen their high spirits for long.

They were all mostly done when the time pips sounded on the wireless, and the announcer launched into a monologue, presumably reading the news in German. Maxi glanced around the room until she found a clock. “We should probably call it a night and get changed fer bed,” she said reluctantly. “We’ve made a racket for long enough.”

“Aw, do we have to?” Tammy whined. “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

“No, come on! Big day tomorrow, and we can’t keep the firsties up past their bedtime,” she said firmly. 

“Oh, fine! Just for that, I’m having the bathroom first!” Tammy flounced out theatrically, leaving the others to get changed.

“Just don’t take forever like you normally do!” Becky called after her.

* * * * *

Becky watched her go and shook her head. If anyone had told her seven years ago that she’d live with three other girls in the same room and not want to kill them by the end of the first week, she’d never have believed them. In fact, here she was, having a blast and wondering what on earth she’d do without them next year. For all that their personalities differed, they’d found a way to get along - and become firm friends on the way.

Tammy, athletic and outgoing. Maxi, powerful and passionate. And then there was her, who seemed to have ended up with ‘short, blonde, and spunky’ as a consolation prize. And Michelle, of course! Somehow, everyone always overlooked Michelle. She scooped a bottle of hand cream up out of her trunk and dumped it on the top of her dresser. Tammy had left the wireless pumping, a minor act of rebellion, but Maxi seemed happy to let it go, bobbing her head along to a languorous love song that replaced the news. 

She quickly changed, then put her hand on the lid of her trunk to close it before she spotted Michelle. She had changed into her night clothes, a long tee-shirt and briefs, and was grooving beside her bed, eyes closed and swaying sensuously while she mimed into her hairbrush.

_ I don’t want anybody else_

_ Boy, there ain’t no doubt_

_ I’m under your spell_

She hid a grin. _Oh my God, you SO are, too_! Quiet, diffident Michelle, who normally blended into the background like she was afraid someone might notice her, showing a stunning amount of leg and strutting about in a way that would make the blokes dribble - and if only one boy in particular could see her, now! On an impulse, she grabbed her camera out of her trunk and snapped a shot of her friend. Michelle didn’t notice, but Maxi did, biting her lip to keep from laughing aloud and giving the game away.

It might be their last year at Hogwarts, but it promised to be a lot of fun along the way.


	2. Defence Against Stupidity

Having eaten like a starving warthog, Michelle slept badly, and judging by the general restlessness in her dorm that night, the others were struggling to settle in, as well. None of them were happy to be dragged out of bed by the alarm, and they washed and dressed on autopilot. It was an unusually-quiet and slightly dishevelled gang of girls that met up with their male counterparts in the common room the next day and headed up to breakfast. For their part, Ravi was looking particularly red-eyed, while Chris was the most chipper out of all of them. 

In the Great Hall, Michelle slumped into her usual seat next to Evan and reached blindly for some toast.

“Did you sleep all right?” he asked her in a low voice.

She looked up at him and blinked, struggling to formulate a coherent reply. Now that she looked a little closer, Evan was neatly-dressed and groomed, but his eyes were also a little heavy. 

He grinned at her lack of response. “I think that answers that question.”

“I hate first days. Especially on the weekends,” she muttered defensively, buttering her toast.

“Doesn’t everyone? Want the jam?”

He offered her a pot that had been by his left hand, the far side from her; raspberry, her favourite. Of course he knew that. “Ta.” 

He left her alone for the rest of the meal, and thanks to the magical properties of coffee, she was at least mostly human again by the time Professor Sprout came bustling along the table with an armful of parchment. 

“Good morning, everyone! Or maybe it’s a little early for that, Miss Blake?” Becky just groaned, and the Professor laughed. “You’ll be back into the swing of things soon, I’m sure. Now, timetables. Singh, O’Flaherty... Fielding... McManus, Brady, Taylor... Miss Applebee, of course... Blake... now, where’s Mr.-, where’s Mr. Fielding? Did you think about our discussion last night?” There was only a small hesitation in her voice, but there was no mistaking why Professor Sprout had abruptly changed question to one so innocuous. The way she suddenly paled gave it away, too.

“Yeah. Might need a bit longer,” Evan said quietly, not looking at anyone.

“Well, just not too long,” Professor Sprout said, with just a little too much cheer for it to be entirely natural. “Have a good day, everyone, and I’ll see you all later.”

With that, she moved along to the next group of students, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake. Michelle felt strangely hollow, and pushed her plate away. What little appetite she had, had vanished. Tammy launched into a determinedly-loud conversation with Maxi, but the others were all keeping to themselves. Evan’s eyes were a thousand miles away, but she could see the rigid set in his jaw. Tentatively, she reached out and squeezed his arm as unobtrusively as she could and, after a moment, he gave her a small, grateful smile, and leaned into her shoulder briefly. _It’s just a little thing, so it probably shouldn’t make my heart skip when he does that._

“So, what’s the first instrument of torture fer the day?” Mike’s loud voice made her jump. “Ah, Transfiguration! Everyone doing Transfig. this year?”

“Not me!” said Chris.

“Nor me,” said Ravi. “Something I’m sure Professor McGonagall is eternally grateful for. I’m continuing with Divination instead.”

Mike laughed, “Surely not? With that mad old bat Trelawney?”

Ravi swallowed a mouthful of egg and gestured with his fork. “What can I say? If I predict enough disaster, it’s an easy credit.”

“Uh... guys?” Everyone looked over at Becky, and she held up her timetable and pointed to the script jotted on the back of it. “Has everyone seen this?”

It was a brief note in Professor Sprout’s handwriting. “Please come to my office at the conclusion of lunch today, as I would like to speak to you all briefly. Prof. Sprout.”

Another awkward, moody silence descended. _And no-one needs to ask what it’s about. Today is going to be harder than I thought_, Michelle thought bleakly. 

Evan’s touch on her hand brought her out of her reverie. “Look!”

Circling amidst the sudden influx of post-owls was a familiar, handsome, speckled barn owl, which spotted her and dived down towards their table.

“Rascal! What are you doing here!” she exclaimed, holding up an arm for him to land on before lowering it so he could jump easily onto the table and accept her fuss with his usual, stern dignity.

“It’s just a thought, but I think he may have a letter for you,” Chris pointed out, his eyes twinkling. The familiar, gentle humour was just what she needed and, she gave him a bright smile even as she untied the scroll from Rascal’s leg.

_ Dear Michelle,_

_ Just a little note to say that we hope you had a good trip yesterday and that your first day of class goes well. _

_ Give our love to Evan and all your friends,_

_ Lots of love,_

_ Mum & Dad_

“Aww, that’s really sweet!” Tammy said, leaning over from her seat to read.

“Hey! That’s addressed to me!” Michelle said, pulling it closer to her chest.

Tammy grinned, “Yeah, but we get a name-check, so it’s OK. Well, Evan gets a name-check, the rest of us are sort of an afterthought.”

Michelle blushed and concentrated on making a fuss of Rascal, trying to ignore the others’ laughter. “Go on up to the Owlery and rest for a bit. I’ll try to have a letter for you tonight,” she told him.

“You notice she doesn’t deny it,” Maxi said, grinning.

Rascal let out a little chirrup and rubbed his head briefly on her hand before taking flight.

“All right, give her a break, you lot!” said Evan. 

She snuck a glance at him and saw him trying to hide his own smile. _Why? Why did Mum have to do this today? It’s really nice, I suppose, but-_

Maxi had her arms crossed huffily, “Oh, it’s all right for you, never mind the rest of us languishing in obscurity!”

_Oh, good grief!_

“Do we need to bring up the parcels your mum still sends you every other week, Maxi?”

_Yes! Go, Evan! And if nothing else, at least this has cheered you up a bit._

“Ach, that’s entirely different,” Maxi said, sticking her nose in the air.

“Yeah, that’s _her _mam!” Mike added grinning. His cheek earned him a gentle whack on the arm.

“Maybe yers, too, one day, if ya play yer cards right.”

“Oh, get a room!” groaned Becky.

Mike’s grin was positively wolfish, “Oh, I’ve been trying, but ol’ Sprouty isn’t having it.”

The others laughed.

“What was it you said yesterday about ‘mentally scarring’, Tammy? I dunno about the rest of you, but on that happy note, I’m off to class!” said Ravi, getting to his feet.

“The best idea I’ve heard yet, this morning,” said Becky, shaking her head. “It’s a long way up to McGonagall’s classroom, and I don’t fancy being late on our first day.”

* * * * *

Although it was only half an hour, Professor McGonagall welcomed them to her N.E.W.T. class with the minimum of fuss and plunged into an overview of the year’s curriculum, outlining where it drew on previous year’s experience, and how and where they would be assessed. It was a bucket of cold water that told them that the holidays were well and truly over and that they were in for a mighty busy year ahead.

Their heads spinning, it was straight into Professor Flitwick’s class for more. His introduction to Charms was rather briefer and the little man couldn’t resist setting up a few exercises from the previous year to help them blow the rust off, then happily bounced around the room correcting wand movements and offering tips and advice. Charms was easily one of his favourite subjects, and Evan felt that he was starting to come to terms with the idea of classes again.

They had a long break after Charms, and while most of his friends caught up with people from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, Evan loitered by the door long enough to catch Gabriel - and long enough for Gabriel’s house-mate, Cassius Warrington, to deliberately barge him on the way past, and Miles Bletchley and Graham Montague to give him filthy looks. Used to the niggle from Slytherin’s Quidditch players, he ignored it. 

“All right, Gabriel? I see your house-mates are as charming as ever.”

“Ah, the terrible trio. I think they consider it a social service,” Gabriel said, grinning sardonically as they wandered back towards the Great Stairs. “You know, keeping you poor, inferior Hufflepuffs in your place.”

“If we’re so inferior, why do we bother them so much?”

“Touché! So, how was your holidays?”

Evan and Gabriel spent a while catching up on events over the summer, lounging against the banister to watch the students bustling to and fro below them like a sort of giant ant colony. It was quite entertaining, although the first-years were easy to spot as they tended to move in a bewildered, confused mass, staring in all directions and generally getting in everyone’s way. They were not helped by the occasional burst of purple smoke from a side corridor, the sort of thing that usually indicated a Weasley on the loose with mayhem on his mind. 

After about half an hour, Gabriel looked back up the corridor behind Evan and said, “Ah, the fair demoiselle Taylor approacheth. Ready for Potions, Taylor?”

“I hope so, Engel,” she said cautiously. “Shall we go?”

They set off for the Potions dungeon, and Evan was glad not to be joining them. He had done well enough in his Potions O.W.L., but he was not prepared to face another two years of Professor Snape. Enough was enough, and he had decided to focus on subjects he actually enjoyed - even if Herbology would never be his strong suit. Potions was one of Michelle’s favourites despite the teacher, and she claimed that Snape’s permanently-sour attitude had improved slightly now that the weaker students had been eliminated. Evan found it a little sad that she was always on edge around Gabriel. The Slytherin boy led a rather isolated life, caught between the worst of the Slytherins and the suspicion of just about everyone else towards his house. Despite the sarcasm and arch sense of humour about it, he was never sure whether it bothered his friend or not. For all that he was fond enough of Evan and enjoyed their verbal sparring in a good-natured sort of way, he was a very self-contained person. With a mental shrug, he went to join the group around Kenny Towler and Karen Alsop of Gryffindor.

Michelle reappeared about forty minutes later, looking a little panicky around the eyes at the size of the promised homework piles, and they had another truncated period to themselves before their final lesson for the day, which was Defence Against the Dark Arts. They were all anxious to varying degrees about the new professor, and as they filed into the classroom and took up their usual seats, Professor Umbridge watched with a false, simpering smile from in front of the large blackboard, on which were written the words

_Defence Against the Dark Arts_

_Foundations and Principles._

“Good morning, students!” she said brightly in her high-pitched voice, when the door closed behind the last of them.

They all exchanged sceptical looks, but the only reply was a few scattered, ‘Morning’s. 

“Oh dear! Rather early in the term, is it? Don’t worry, I’m sure we will all get along famously. Now, I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good morning, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good morning, class!”

“Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” they droned half-heartedly back. 

Luckily, that seemed to satisfy her, and she continued. “N.E.W.T.-level Defence Against the Dark Arts should be the apogee of your education in this subject, unless you go on to join a Ministry department, where you may receive further training. Unfortunately, the constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has left you far below the standard we would expect to see in your N.E.W.T. year. These problems, having been identified after an initial review of practises at Hogwarts, are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year that will bring you up to the required standard.” She rapped sharply on the blackboard with her wand, and a list headed ‘Course Aims’ appeared. “Copy these down, please.”

He looked at Michelle with a raised eyebrow, and noticed that most of the class was doing something similar. Finally, with a shrug, he drew up a fresh page in his notebook and jotted the course aims down as requested.

“Has everyone brought their copy of Advanced Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

There was a general, reluctant grumble of agreement.

“Come now, this won’t do! When I ask a question, you will answer ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge,’ or ‘No, Professor Umbridge’, is that understood? I said, is that understood?”

There was a half-hearted ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge,’ but Evan was not alone in staying mutinously silent.

“Excellent! Now, if you will turn to page 5, and read chapter one, ‘A Recapitulation Of Basic Theory’. There will be no need to talk.”

This time, nearly the whole class was looking askance around them. _Is she actually serious? What is this, a book club? _Puffing out his cheeks philosophically, he cracked his textbook and began to read.

The only sound in the class was the occasional rustle of paper - and it quickly became a very occasional rustle, because Wilbert Slinkhard couldn’t have written a drier, more patronising, catastrophically-dull book if he had tried. He waited for some sort of interaction, some sort of guidance from the Professor on what exactly it was supposed to be teaching them, but eventually he realised it wasn’t going to come. There was no practical exercise - Wilbert Slinkhard would have fainted at the very thought - just more turgid prose.

Most concerning, as far as he was concerned, was that the Weasley twins were completely quiet and non-disruptive. That usually meant trouble was brewing, and if the preceding six years had taught him anything, it was going to be a cracker.

Finally, Professor Umbridge called them to order a few minutes before the bell and got them to pack their things away, once again giving the distinct impression that she thought she was dealing with a bunch of primary-school students, and they could make good their escape.

There was a lot of mutinous muttering from the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as they headed for the Great Hall and lunch. Fred and George quickly gathered up the Gryffindors and hustled off, talking in low, furtive voices, while although the Slytherins ignored the others he could see some troubled faces in their ranks, too. 

“Well, what do we make of that, then?” Tammy asked.

“Possibly the biggest waste o’ time since Ravi tried ter impress Vinu Bhatia so she’d go out with him in third year,” said Maxi.

“Hey!”

“Nah, there was always the chance that Vinu’d take pity on him,” said Mike, stifling a chuckle. “What a colossal bundle of fun _that’s_ going ter be this year.”

“I guess the warning signs were all there,” said Tammy. “We probably ought to know better by now. And yes, Mike, I remember what I said, you don’t need to remind me!”

“I didn’t say a word,” he said, grinning. 

“Well. Let’s give it a week or two and see if it improves when she loosens up a bit,” said Evan. “I mean, surely we can’t just have a year of Wilbert Slinkhard, can we?”

“You want to bet?” Tammy said ominously.

Lunch was a very cheerful affair, as they were free to socialise all afternoon. Lee Jordan was quickly over to their table to invite them to meet up with the other seventh-years afterwards - well, the other seventh-years with the exception of the Slytherins. 

Just when they were clearing up and ready to go, Chris piped up hesitantly, “Um… guys? We’re supposed to see Professor Sprout, remember?”

They all froze for a moment, caught out by the reminder and their good mood suddenly faltering.

“Thanks, Chris. Can’t believe I almost forgot,” said Mike in a low voice.

Evan stood up abruptly. “Everyone finished? Come on, then.”

They found the door to Professor Sprout’s office wide open and the witch herself tending to a tray of cuttings under a long window, and the Friar standing in the corner beside the hearth, looking unusually solemn. She smiled at them in greeting over her shoulder, hands still busy with nippers and soil. “Do come in, I won’t keep you for long. The door, if you please, Miss Blake? Thank you.” She wiped her hands and walked over to settle herself behind her desk with a quiet sigh. 

“All settled back in, are you? Good, that’s excellent!” Professor Sprout’s cheerful smile faded. “But I think you all know why you’re here,” she said gently. “I am very conscious that it is not so very long since Mr. Diggory’s death, and while he leaves many friends and acquaintances, you were all his closest friends. Although you have had some time to recover with your families, being back here at Hogwarts will inevitably be very hard for you. Sometimes, just when you think you are getting used to the fact, it can suddenly hit you again unexpectedly. I know that you will all look after one another - you are one of the finest clans of Badgers I have had these many years - but sometimes that may not be enough. If ever you need to talk to someone, if ever you’re feeling overwhelmed or upset, or you don’t know what to do, my door is always open to you. There is a tendency in these things to worry that you may be overreacting, or wasting someone’s time. I promise you, you are not. I am always available, and your well-being is my priority.”

The Friar joined in, his voice gentle. “Likewise, my ministry continues, even after my own death. I cannot tell you what may come after, but should you need to talk in confidence, if you seek an ear and what advice I can give, I am always available for you, day or night.”

The silence when the little monk stopped speaking was profound. Professor Sprout cleared her throat, “Does anyone have any questions? No? Well, if you think of something later or you would prefer to speak to me in private then again, please just come and find me.”

Evan looked around the ring of grim faces. “Thank you both,” he said at last, and a few of the others murmured their own thanks.

“Then I won’t keep you any longer. Please try to enjoy the rest of your day.”

It was a very quiet group of students that made their way back to the Hufflepuff common room, slumping wordlessly into couches and chairs in front of the unlit fireplace. He noticed that Ravi quickly gravitated towards his little sister, Jasmin, catching up on her introduction to fourth-year and trying to make her laugh. Like things were still normal. As much as he loved his friends, he almost envied him for having that extra closeness of family, right there in Hufflepuff. 

Mike and Maxi were the first to leave, slipping out of the common room hand in hand and looking uncharacteristically sober. One by one, the others followed, taking various routes, but over the course of the next hour they all found themselves congregating with Roger Davies and the rest of the Ravenclaw crew in a disused classroom near Ravenclaw Tower which had become a sort of neutral territory for them to socialise with friends of different houses. A few Gryffindors showed up, too, and Evan noticed Patricia Stimpson, the Head Girl, talking earnestly with Becky and Tammy. She spent a few minutes talking with Chris before taking his hand and leading him to a quiet corner, where they spent a long time in conversation. Chris’ towering bulk and Trish’s skinny, petite frame made quite a contrast, and another time someone might have teased them about spending so long sitting in their conjured armchairs with their heads bent close together, but the look on Chris’ face told the tale and by mutual agreement everyone edged away to the other end of the room to give the two what little privacy they could find. Trish may not have been the best student in their year, but there was a good reason she had been made Head Girl.

He found himself walking next to her when the seventh years descended _en masse _to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Hey, Trish. Is Chris going to be all right?” he asked, glancing back over his shoulder to where Chris was talking to Lee Jordan.

Trish made a sympathetic face. “I hope so. You guys look after him, won’t you?”

“We’ll do our best.”

After dinner, he and the rest of his house-mates spent the evening in their common-room, where an impromptu back-to-school party broke out, but his eyes kept being drawn to his friend.

* * * * *

Sunday dawned grey and blowy, with a few occasional drips that never quite threatened to turn into proper rain. Even so, Evan had to overcome a remarkable reluctance to go for a run. He had got into the habit a few years before in the hope of building himself up for Quidditch, and now it was almost second nature to drag himself out of bed a few times a week and run laps around the Quidditch stadium or the lake, depending on the weather and the state of the grounds. 

After a hot shower and breakfast, he made sure to put a waterproofing charm on his cloak before making his way across the lawn and down to Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures. It was a class with pitifully-few students at N.E.W.T. level, but he loved being out in the fresh air and the challenge of working with animals of various different traits and temperaments. The hut’s windows were curtained and shrouded and there was no sign of Hagrid, but his replacement stood foursquare in front of the gamekeeper’s hut, puffing peaceably on the large briar pipe clenched in her teeth.

Professor Grubbly-Plank was a powerfully-built witch with close-cropped grey hair, a weathered face, and a pugnacious chin that suggested it was only the brave or foolish that took her on - animal or human. “Ah, Fielding, isn’t it?” she said, barking clipped sentences in her booming voice. “Welcome! Just the four of you, this year, I think.”

Emma Carroll from Ravenclaw was already waiting with Karen Alsop from Gryffindor, and they said ‘Hi’ cheerfully enough, but the last student to arrive was Adrian Pucey. The thin-faced Slytherin nodded shortly at the others but that was his sole concession to their existence. Evan wasn’t really bothered. While Pucey made no attempt to hide his dislike for the other students, unlike some of his house-mates he kept his wand and his mouth to himself. At least you knew where you stood with him.

“Let’s get started, then. Busy year, this year. Lots to be done. An interesting foundation last year for you. Merpeople and manticores, wasn’t it? And unicorns briefly, of course.”

“Blast-ended Skrewts, Professor,” Karen said, with a shudder. “Manticores crossed with fire crabs.”

“_Manticores crossed with fire crabs?_” the Professor boomed, puffing hard on her pipe. “Great Merlin! How odd! Can’t pretend to know what Hagrid was thinking. Must have had good reason. Probably for the Tournament.”

“A practical demonstration of the dangers of messing about with the Ban on Experimental Breeding?” Pucey offered. The girls laughed, and Evan had to grin, too.

“Possible, possible. Now then. This year will be course and field work, plus an original project. It’s not about the most dangerous creature. A project on a safe creature done well trumps a project on a killer done badly, understand? Have you all chosen? Good. Mr. Fielding?”

“The society of, and relationship between, Hippogriffs and Porlocks.”

“Good! Plenty to get your teeth into. Miss Alsop?”

“The ecological management practises of Merpeople, Professor.”

“Hmm! A good one, but a challenge! Plenty of practice on your Bubble-Head Charm and Revulsion Jinx, I think. Miss Carroll?”

“The care and mating habits of the Hebridean Black, Professor.”

“Difficult, difficult.” Professor Grubbly-Plank sucked hard on her pipe, blowing smoke a little like a dragon herself. “Have you considered something else?” she asked at last.

“My family are MacFustys, Professor,” she said, as if that explained everything. And, in a way, it did.

“Well, if you’re sure. Never been a dragon gal, myself. Be very careful, and if you see one take a deep breath, run like the blazes! And finally, Mr. Pucey?”

“Well, I _was_ going to study manticores and fire crabs,” Pucey said sardonically, “But I think I saw enough last year. The range and habitat of Scottish Red Caps.”

“Hmph. Might want a little more than that. See me afterwards, I’ll look at your plan. We’ll work something out.”

She outlined her own plan for the year although, as she pointed out, “Not sure how long I’ll be here, of course. Only filling in as a favour for Dumbledore.”

“Where _is_ Hagrid, Professor?” Emma asked.

“No idea. They didn’t say. He left notes, of course. I’m following his year plans.”

The truncated lesson over with, Evan walked across the lawn towards the Herbology greenhouses accompanied by the girls, while Pucey stayed behind to talk to Professor Grubbly-Plank. He’d always got on well with Emma, although Karen hadn’t really warmed up much until sixth-year Magical Creatures when, given the tiny class size, perforce they’d got to know each other better. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t had a huge crush on Cedric in her second and third years, though, one that hadn’t entirely gone away. He smothered a smile at the memory. Not that she had been alone amongst the girls in their year, much to Ced’s puzzlement at the time.

Seventh-year Herbology was much better-attended than Care of Magical Creatures, being essentially mandatory for anyone doing Potions and a prerequisite for many post-Hogwarts careers. All of the seventh-year Hufflepuffs were taking it, and he quickly spotted them all in the waiting group - and there was Michelle, turning away from Chris to look around hopefully, a smile breaking out when she spotted him. Naturally, he gravitated towards that familiar little glow of happiness.

“All right, Evan?” she said softly.

“Yeah.”

That was all they had time for before Professor Sprout got the class underway. They scribbled a few notes on the plan for the year and took a handout sheet each when they were passed around. 

“It’s going to be a busy year, but if you put the effort in, a rewarding one,” Professor Sprout concluded. “I know you all quite well by now, and I believe every one of you can achieve a good N.E.W.T. in this subject if you apply yourselves.”

“Done for the day already. Hardly worth getting out of bed,” Ravi said on the way back to the castle. 

“Speak for yourself, Mike, Becky, and I’ve got Ancient Runes in an hour,” Tammy grumbled.

“Unlucky, guys,” said Chris.

“We’ll be sure to think of you, slaving away over a mouldy old book,” said Maxi, grinning,

“Will you, bollocks!” snorted Becky, making the others laugh.

Nearing the doors to the castle, Evan hesitated, then said, “You guys go on ahead. I just want to speak to Professor Grubbly-Plank for a minute.”

“Oh. Want me to come with you?” Michelle asked.

“Nah, I’ll only be a minute. I’ll see you in the common room.”

* * * * *

Back outside Hagrid’s hut, he waited until Professor Grubbly-Plank had dismissed her class of fifth-years. 

“Back already, Mr. Fielding?” she said, tapping out the dottle from her pipe on the side of her boot.

“I’d like to go and see the Hogwarts hippogriff herd this afternoon, if that’s all right with you.”

She studied him closely. “You’re confident you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes, Professor. Would you like me to take anything over to them?” he asked calmly.

“Hmph. Well, as long as you’re careful. Getting an early start on your project?”

“I thought it wouldn’t hurt to at least get them used to me being around.”

“Good enough. Hagrid has them well-trained, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble. Just look out for the big, bay hen. She’s gravid, so she might be a bit moody.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

He found the common room buzzing with activity, but of his year, only Michelle was still there, lost in thought and staring into space by the unlit fire. Quietly, he went and dumped his bag in his dorm, then went back to see her.

“All right, Michelle?”

She blinked rapidly and looked up at him. “Hi,” she said quietly.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“They went to meet up with Lee and the twins. I thought I’d wait for you. You ready?”

“I guess. Unless you just want to wait until lunch?”

Michelle hesitated, then patted the seat beside her. “I think I might, actually. Enjoy the peace while it lasts, or something.”

He wasn’t sure exactly how the first- and second-years running around and the fifth-year girls playing Exploding Snap at the table next to them could be described as ‘peace’, as he took up the spot next to her, but he sort of knew what she meant. It wasn’t long before she was deep in whatever thoughts had occupied her before.

“Is everything OK, Michelle?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, fine. It’s just… I ran into Cho earlier. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since last year.”

_And Cedric_, she didn’t say, but he knew what she meant. “How’s she doing?”

She sighed, “Pretty badly, at a guess. She rather snapped at me, then burst into tears, and ran off with that friend of hers, Marietta.”

“Yeah. That sounds like a carbon copy of when Chris and I tried to talk to her,” he said. “I’m not surprised she’s still a bit messed up, but I don’t really know what we can do about it - especially if she won’t talk to us. Keep offering, I suppose, although she’ll probably feel better talking to someone like Emma or Megs from her own house.”

“Yeah. Professor Flitwick will be keeping an eye on her, of course, but I talked to the Friar, just now, and asked him to have a word with the Grey Lady. I don’t know if it’ll help, but…” She shrugged.

“Knowing the Friar, he’ll probably try to talk to her himself. Just so long as she’s got her mates and knows she isn’t alone.”

“Yeah,” Michelle said softly, turning to look intently at him. “It helps.”

He put his hand on hers, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It does, doesn’t it?”

* * * * *

After lunch in the Great Hall, Evan hung out with his friends for a while, then made his excuses and grabbed his broom from his dorm. Once outside, he took off as soon as he made it onto the lawn, revelling in the familiar rush of air and the fierce freedom of flying. Skirting the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he crossed the gorge behind the castle and landed in a small clearing. It was a few hundred meters’ walk from there to the hippogriff paddocks, but flying predators were often territorial towards anything else in the air. Walking through the trees, he began whistling a tune to himself, making sure to make enough noise that he wouldn’t burst out and startle them. Sure enough, when he reached the treeline, the hippogriffs were all watching with their heads up. He took a couple of cautious steps out of the trees and bowed low. It was only after the dominant male bobbed his head in return that the other hippogriffs relaxed, and Evan could approach.

He went to the dominant male first, a brindled grey, letting him take his scent and nudge him around his pockets while he scratched his crest. When no food was forthcoming, he lost interest and wandered off, and Evan was free to see the rest of the herd. 

A couple of the younger stallions were galloping around, playing chase, but Evan headed for the block of open-fronted loose-boxes which stood with its back to the prevailing wind to stow his broom in the small shed on the side and retrieve a set of grooming brushes. One of the stallions came to see what he was doing, and let Evan groom him and check his feet without fuss. He spent some time with one of the hens, checking her feathers and grooming her coat, before moving on to the gravid bay hen. She watched him approach with brilliant, unblinking orange eyes, and he made a point of bowing to her and waiting for her reply before coming within beak and talon range. He talked soothingly to her as he scratched her crest and made a fuss of her, checking through the slick, springy feathers of her head and neck while she snuffled hopefully at his pockets. Moving on, he groomed her back and swollen sides, the egg distending her sleek form. She seemed to be enjoying the attention, so he worked his way back up her side, keeping a hand in near-constant contact with her body so she would know where he was, to pat her neck and scratch her chin. She leaned her head into his scratches, and took his wrist in her enormous, flesh-ripping, steel-trap of a beak and nibbled gently on it in an affectionate sort of way when he did her chin. Not only was it moderately terrifying, it actually hurt quite a lot, and he had to stop himself from pulling away. 

Rubbing his arm, he moved on to a skittish young stallion, and then an older hen. The bay hen followed him around, cocking her head to the side and looking hopefully at him when he’d finished with each of them. Grinning, he went back and made more of a fuss of her.

He spent some time doing basic chores around the loose-boxes such as checking water and mucking out, spreading new hay, and so on, but soon it was time to stow the brushes and retrieve his broom. Just as he locked up the little shed, he heard a quiet rustle from the straw in the corner of the nearest box, and he eased himself down with his back against the wall of the stall and waited. It was maybe ten minutes later that a little head with a thick mane of shaggy hair poked up through the straw. Its large nose twitched anxiously, but when he made no sign of movement, it reared up on its back hooves and scuttled out into the paddock, turning to check that Evan hadn’t followed, then darted around the back of the stalls towards the hay pile. 

“Well, well,” said a familiar voice. “It’s not very often someone gets to see Nigel.”

He twisted around to see Professor Grubbly-Plank looking in on him, the brindled grey’s head resting on her shoulder. 

“Nigel?”

“The porlock. Dashed silly name, of course, but there you are. Very well done, Mr. Fielding, I’ve been watching. A good understanding of hierarchy and herd dynamics. Patience when it’s needed, too. Hotspur, here, must like you if he’s prepared to let another male around his hens.”

“I think I’m the wrong shape to worry him too much,” Evan said, with a small smile. He stood up and began working the kinks out of his limbs.

“That won’t matter to him, you smell male and that’s sometimes enough.” The professor grinned at him, “I think you’ve got a new girlfriend, judging by the way Caroline was following you around.”

“The bay? She’s pushy, that’s for sure,” he said, rubbing his wrist again. “How long were you here?”

“Long enough, long enough. I was here just before you, checking a few things. Wanted to see if you knew what you were about. Dangerous creatures if they’re handled wrong, hippogriffs. Looks like you’ve got your head screwed on straight.”

They said goodbye to the hippogriffs and set off through the trees for the castle. “How far along is Caroline?”

“Another couple of months, I should say. Flying’s difficult, now. Makes them cranky, sometimes.”

“I found a few feather mites on a couple of them.”

“A few or a lot? Always get ‘em, living out like these do.”

“Just a couple, really.”

“Fair enough. I’ll make up a powder. Can’t be too sure.”

Rather than fly back, Evan kept pace with the professor, who had the steady, implacable tread of someone well-accustomed to hill-walking. It took considerably longer, but meant that they could talk about hippogriffs and porlocks on the way.

He arrived back at the Hufflepuff common room pleasantly tired, and was quickly pounced on by a worried-looking Michelle.

“Where have you _been_?! You said you wouldn’t be long.”

“Running around with my new girlfriend,” he said jokingly. “You’ll like her. She’s a beautiful hen, and she’s having an egg in a couple of months.”

He felt his heart sink at the momentary look of hurt on her face at his first sentence, regretting the joke, although she rallied beautifully at his clarification.

“Really? Are you sure it’s yours?”

They both laughed.

“I’d have a lot of explaining to do if it was! And anyway, she’s been getting rough with me.” He held up his arm, showing the scrapes on his wrist that had bled a little. “I think I’d better go and get something on these. Just let me put my broom away.”

They set off for the Hospital Wing together and he filled her in on his afternoon, while she summed up what he’d missed. Worryingly, it seemed that the Weasley twins had been experimenting over the summer. Madam Pomfrey quickly disinfected and sorted his arm out, and then they went down to dinner, where they found their friends waiting.

“Where did you disappear off to, then?” asked Ravi, through a mouthful of pie.

“I thought I’d go and meet the hippogriffs. I’m doing a project on them, this year.”

“Now, that’s quite a euphemism, there - ‘meeting the hippogriff’,” Mike smirked. “_Ow_!” he added, when Maxi whacked him on the arm. 

“Rather you than me. I always felt that I looked like lunch to them,” said Becky.

“That’s ‘cos you’re a midget,” said Mike. “_Ow_! Leave off, woman!”

“They’re fine if you handle them right.”

“Oh, sure, which is why we’ve just come from the hospital wing,” Michelle pointed out.

“You all right, then?” asked Tammy. “I mean, did you have to get anything reattached?”

“Nah, one of them had a little nibble, that’s all. It was just a few scrapes and I’ll know to look out for her next time. She was just being friendly.”

“Yeah, ‘friendly’, that’s it,” said Becky, with a shudder. She pretended to smack her lips, “’Mmm, delicious! I’ll save this one for later!’”

Even Evan had to join in the laughter at that.

* * * * *

Their first week of class started in earnest on Monday morning with Herbology. By the time they walked out of Charms for lunch, they were in a state of mild shock and quiet panic. The promised workload for the year was already landing on them with all the subtlety and grace of an erumpent in mating season, and it only got worse in the afternoon. As Tammy pointed out that afternoon when they all ganged together to commandeer a corner of the common room and make a start on their homework, Hufflepuffs were by reputation not _afraid_ of hard work - but there was nothing to say they couldn’t be _intimidated_ by it. As with O.W.L. year, the only thing to do was get on to homework immediately that it was set and as soon as classes finished for the day rather than taking a break and socialising. Instead, any spare time would be at the end of the day - assuming there was any - and they could prevent things piling up. It was a logical strategy, but despite their best efforts it still seemed to pile up alarmingly fast.

After breakfast on Wednesday, having ducked back into the common room for their bags, Michelle and Evan were about to set off for Transfiguration when they noticed a new message posted on the common room message-board:

**_95-96 Quidditch Season!_**

_ Trials for the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team will be held on Sunday, 9th, at 1pm._

_ Z. Smith_

_ Quidditch Captain_

“Smith?! _Zacharias_ Smith?! Who the heck made that little twerp Quidditch Captain?!” demanded Leah Harper, aghast. 

“He was a reserve last year, though, wasn’t he?” said Roger Stebbins uncertainly.

“So what?! _Captain_, for crying out loud!”

Michelle turned to Evan in shock, “Seriously? Is that true?”

Evan just shrugged. “Looks like it.”

“I can’t believe it’s not you! Or at least Mike or Maxi.”

Evan sighed and set off for the door. “Haven’t we got class to go to?”

Despite her best efforts, he determinedly avoided the subject over the next few days, even refusing to join in the horrified disbelief of the other seventh-years when they found out. Mike and Maxi went to see Professor Sprout about it, but despite that and a threat to resign entirely from Gwion, there was no change forthcoming. That didn’t stop the others, particularly Tammy and Gwion, from shooting filthy looks at Smith as he strutted around the place, the silver Quidditch Captain’s badge buffed brightly and pinned prominently to his robes, acting like he was cock of the walk. Although Michelle wasn’t really the most fanatical of Quidditch fans, what did thoroughly annoy her was Evan’s stubbornly phlegmatic acceptance of being passed over. 

She was still annoyed enough with him on Friday morning that at breakfast she again sat at the far end of their usual gang rather than next to him. Although it was incredibly petty, she was infuriated and a little disheartened that he made no comment about it. Their friends looked at them strangely, sensing a tiff of some sort, but didn’t enquire further. Instead, they talked about their weekend plans and tried to gauge how much of their time would be consumed by the terrifying amounts of homework that had already been assigned. 

Mike was the first to push his plate away. “What have we got first, today? Transfig?”

“Yeah - but the day ends on a really positive note,” Tammy said, her voice dripping sarcasm.

“Defence,” Ravi confirmed, with a leaden lack of enthusiasm.

Maxi rolled her eyes. “I’ll try to contain my excitement, so I will.”

“Oh well, tomorrow’s the weekend,” Michelle added hopefully, trying to lighten the mood.

Mike’s expression perked up, “And only one more day until Quidditch trials!”

“I don’t know what you’re so excited about, Mike, it’s not like you aren’t going to get back in the side,” said Chris.

“Ya don’t know that! And anyway, it means getting back in the air-”

Becky rolled her eyes, “The scent of combat, the thwack of oak on iron, yeah, yeah, Mike, we know your little spiel off by heart by now.”

“Philistines!” he grunted in mock-annoyance before turning to Maxi. “Me darlin’, they just don’t understand, do they?”

“They surely do, they’re just sick of ya flapping yer gums about it.”

“I understand that we ought to get a move on, unless you want to be late,” said Becky. “And if that doesn’t spur you on, you have the happy anticipation of waiting all day to see what new joys Umbridge has managed to cook up for you.”

“You’re loving the fact that you’re not doing Defence, aren’t you, Becky?” said Ravi archly.

Becky just beamed cheerfully, “Yup!”

* * * * *

Saturday would normally mark a day of relative calm after the week’s storm, but despite diligently spending their Friday night chewing their way through their homework, there was still plenty more awaiting them on Saturday. By general consent, the essay for Defence Against the Dark Arts had been left until last to avoid Wilbert Slinkhard’s deathly prose for as long as possible. In hope more than expectation, Michelle joined Ravi and Evan in visiting the library in the hope of finding some relevant but more palatable text, only to find Megan Beckton and Roger Davies sitting with Angelina Johnson, Kenny Towler, and Alicia Spinnet, forlornly surrounded by Defence-related reference books.

“It’s no good,” Angelina was saying in disgust, “These books all appear to be either practical, dangerously useful, or both.”

“And, therefore, no use in expanding on Slinkhard’s nonsense,” Roger sighed. “All right, guys?”

“I think we’re on the same mission as you,” said Ravi. “No luck?”

“Not a sausage,” Roger said. “I mean, seriously - negotiation and de-escalation with dark creatures? Who writes this guff?”

Angelina scowled. “Wilbert Slinkhard, obviously. Mind you, I get the impression that if he ever actually left his house he might faint, let alone if he ran into a dangerous creature.”

“I’m more worried that Umbridge doesn’t seem to think we need to actually practise any spells,” Megan said, making a face. “I mean, unless there’s a major, major change from just about every N.E.W.T. exam in history, we’re going to fail the practical part absolutely miserably.”

Michelle bit her lip. “But Umbridge is here direct from the Ministry itself. She must know what they want from us, surely?”

“And maybe she does, which is the worrying thing. If this is a long-term change, then they may as well just phase out Defence entirely and stop wasting everyone’s time.”

“But why, though? So we all leave school without the ability to defend ourselves?” said Ravi. “That’s mad, especially now!”

Alicia gave them a crooked, cynical smile, “The Daily Prophet is absolutely terrified of what Dumbledore’s been saying about You-Know-Who, though, and they’re basically a mouthpiece for the Ministry. Maybe the Ministry is worried that we’re all on Dumbledore’s side?”

“Bonkers, the lot of them,” said Angelina.

“Not that I disagree with anyone, but perhaps we should get back to thinking about our homework,” said Evan. “Given everything we’ve just said, do you really think Umbridge actually wants anyone to do extra reading or quote other sources? I think she only wants to see exactly what she’s expecting, and that means parroting Wilbert Slinkhard. I mean, I know it’s crap, but that’s what it’ll be marked on.”

Megan’s shoulders slumped. “You’re probably right,” she said, then swore under her breath in disgust. “I hate writing bollocks for the sake of it.”

Kenny grinned, “Hey, if it’s bollocks she wants, then it’s bollocks she’ll get. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s how to pad out essays.” 

The others laughed. 

“I think my record is using the word ‘very’ thirty-four times in a Divination essay back in fourth-year to get it over the length requirement,” he added.

“A galleon says you break it in Defence before Christmas,” said Alicia.

“I don’t bet against sure things,” Kenny said, chuckling.

The Hufflepuffs found a table and pulled out their hated textbooks, and soon the silence was only broken by the busy scratching of quills. 

Nearly two hours later, Michelle dropped her quill and stretched her aching fingers. “How are you guys going?”

“I think my brain has dribbled out of my ears in self-defence,” groaned Ravi. “Does Wilbert Slinkhard’s writing count as a Dark Art?”

“Believe it or not,” said Evan, still writing furiously, “I think… I… am… done! Thank Merlin!”

“Wait, seriously? Ugh!” Ravi collapsed backwards in his chair, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“I think you broke him,” giggled Michelle.

Evan grinned at her, blue eyes twinkling. “How are you doing?”

“I just need to sum up, I think. I don’t know how much sense it makes, but…”

“You want me to have a read?”

“Sure - swap?”

They exchanged parchment and sank back into silence while Ravi battled on. Finally, he proclaimed himself done and the three of them exchanged notes. A final round of corrections, and they could mark it off the list.

“How are you doing on Charms?” Ravi asked Evan. 

“Done. Finished that one last night. You?”

“Did it this morning. Just some Divination to finish, for now, and I can do that back in the common room,” he said, ramming his belongings back into his bag. Michelle dithered for a moment, then decided to do the same.

“How about you, Michelle?”

“I need to practice some Transfiguration, but other than that, I’m done, too.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you guys at lunch. I need to dig up everything we’ve got here on porlocks for Care of Magical Creatures,” said Evan

“Rather you than me, mate. You’re finished after that, though, right?”

“I might go and see the hippogriffs again this afternoon, but yeah. And after that, it’s Sunday - and you know what that means.”

The two boys grinned fiercely at each other. “Quidditch!”

* * * * *

Evan found Professor Grubbly-Plank behind Hagrid’s hut, tending to the large herb garden, and assisted by Emma Carroll. They were deep in conversation about dragons, but he got a smile from the stocky, dark-haired Ravenclaw girl and a firm nod from the Professor.

“Fielding. Off to see the hippogriffs?” she boomed, sending up a dense cloud from her pipe and lobbing a weed into the nearby wheelbarrrow.

“Yes, Professor.”

She nodded approvingly. “Good show! Get ‘em used to you. Mind yourself.”

“I will. Actually, can I have a word, Emma?”

She tilted her head, curious. “Aye, sure?”

The Professor eyed them both briefly, then strode off towards the chicken coop, muttering something about checking their feed.

Emma grinned at him. “I think she might have just got the wrong idea. Anyway, what’s up?”

“It’s about Cho, actually. A few of us have tried to talk to her recently, and she seems like she’s still pretty messed up.”

“Huh. Yeah, she is. I mean, her mood is all over the place, right now. It must be incredibly hard for her, especially to come back here again. And for you guys, as well, of course, but it’s kinda hard to know how to deal with her when she’s either biting your head off or bursting into tears over everything.”

“She didn’t want to talk to us, that’s for sure. I just wanted to make sure she’s got people looking out for her, that’s all.”

“Well, we’ve been trying.” Emma made a face, “I hate to say it, but the girls in her year aren’t really helping that much. Sarah can’t stand her being dramatic all the time, Pauline and Sunita don’t quite know what to do, and Helen’s patience is wearing pretty thin, so the only one in her dorm she’s really tight with right now is Marietta.”

“I thought Helen was pretty easy-going?”

“Helen’s a sweetie, but she had a few run-ins with Cho last year over O.W.L.s, and for whatever reason Cho said some pretty nasty things to her after the Welcoming Feast. I know she didn’t really mean it, and I think Helen knows that, too, but I can understand why she’s not exactly the most tolerant of being dumped on, right now.” She paused and added tentatively, “How are you guys in Hufflepuff doing? I know I still find it hard to believe, somehow, so I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

“We’re doing OK,” he said eventually. “Every day is a new day, but we’ve got our mates, and it sort of reminds you what’s important.”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “You guys look after each other. Don’t worry about Cho, we’ll make sure we take care of her.”

“Thanks, Emma. So, to change the subject a bit, are you getting started on your project, too?”

“Yeah, the Professor had a few suggestions for me. There’s a couple of articles in last year’s _Magizoological Almanac_ that she thought might be useful. ‘Never been a dragon gal. Dashed dangerous,’” she quoted mischievously.

He laughed, “Well, she’s got a point, hasn’t she? Why dragons, anyway?”

“Like I told the Professor, my family have been working the Hebrides sanctuary for generations. I’ve always wanted to do it, too, ever since I was little and toddling around after my aunts. Before I came to Hogwarts I could skipper the boats between the islands, although they wouldn’t let me do the crossing of the Minch on my own. Things are getting tougher, these days. Not that many kids want to be dragonologists any more, stuck out on the islands. Why risk it, and all the hard work it entails, when you can just floo to Edinburgh or London or wherever, and never even get your feet wet?”

“They’re a bit too big and, well, _alien_, for me to be comfortable, I think.”

Her smile faded into a dreamy look. “They are the most _majestic_ creatures. The Hebrideans are one of the more feisty breeds, but if you ever find yourself out in the islands just before the sun rises, and suddenly, the sea breaks and boils, and this huge, sleek, horned head rises up with a salmon in its mouth, then you’ll understand.” 

“If I didn’t know it was there, I’m pretty sure I’d be running for the hills by that point!”

That made her laugh. “What about you, why hippogriffs? Hagrid’s lessons last year?”

“A bit, I suppose. They’re dangerous, but mostly only if you don’t know what you’re doing, and they’re actually very smart. Porlocks are kinda fascinating, too, especially that they’ve somehow managed to become so interdependent with flying carnivores that really don’t need that much protecting.”

“What about thestrals, why not them? There’s a herd here at Hogwarts, too. You can see them, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Thestrals are… different. I find them much more horse-like than hippogriffs. I certainly took a while to warm up to them in fifth-year, anyway. I suppose part of my choice was exactly because hippogriffs have that extra dimension to their intelligence. And although thestrals and hippogriffs are both equines, or at least, equine-related, I find it interesting that the porlocks still act the same way around them, even though their behaviours are quite different.”

A slow smile spread across her face.

“What?”

“I was just thinking. You’re like most people, you like animals that you can make a connection with, like hippogriffs and thestrals. You can’t do that with dragons, nothing like the same way. Dragons cannot be tamed. The Hebrideans will defend their range to the death, if it comes to it. Forever free, forever wild. You don’t tame them, you can only respect them.”

“And admire them?”

Emma shivered,, “Oh, yes!” 

“You’re going to have one hell of a project, aren’t you?”

“You’d better believe it!” Her fierce smile faded. “I suppose I ought to stop keeping you from yours. And thanks for asking about Cho. It’s good to know other people are keeping an eye on her, too.”

“Just let her know that if there’s anything we can do, if she needs anything, she can always ask.”

“I will.” She gave him a cheeky grin and said loudly, “It’s OK, Professor, we’ve finished snogging!”

“Emma!”

She just laughed. Professor Grubbly-Plank reappeared a few seconds later, looking rather pink about the cheeks. “Good show! Nearly done, here, I think. Well done, Miss Carroll. Must be off. Fielding,” she muttered gruffly, giving them both a distracted nod and stumping off towards Hagrid’s hut. Emma was looking at him and biting her lip, her face full of barely-suppressed laughter, and he could only shake his head and set off for the hippogriffs.


	3. Quidditch Trials

“All right, then, gather around. I’d like to thank you all for turning out today to try out for the house Quidditch team-”

“Oh, get on with it, Smith!” shouted an impatient voice in the throng of yellow-and-black-clad students clustered around the tunnel of the stadium. “No-one’s here for a speech!”

The pale, thin boy standing in the mouth of the tunnel that was the object of their attention flushed, but ground doggedly on, puffing out his chest with the silver badge pinned prominently to his robes.

“-Obviously, it’s a difficult choice, and I can only reward a few with the honour of representing our house.”

To one side of the milling group of hopefuls, Evan sat propped up against the huge beams of one of the spectator towers, elbows on his knees and a broom between his feet with its handle leaning against his shoulder while he listened in. His sweat-soaked, long-sleeved tee-shirt clung to his upper body, and sweat still dripped from his chin and the tip of his nose as he methodically unbuckled his Keeper’s pads and set them aside with his already-discarded gloves. After a decidedly grotty week, the weekend had turned out fine and sunny - and surprisingly warm in the sunshine. There was a good turn-out from Hufflepuff house, scattered throughout Hogwarts Stadium’s towers, and many of them were hurrying down to the pitch to hear the results.

“Anyway, the team will be as follows; Me, of course, with Gwion Cadwallader and Tamsin Applebee as Chasers. Beaters will be Maxine O’Flaherty and Michael McManus-”

There was a groan of disappointment from one of the crowd, a dejected-looking fourth-year, who got a consolatory slug on the shoulder from one of his mates.

“-and the Seeker will be Owen Summerby. Thank you to everyone else who was unsuccessful, and I hope to see you back here again next year. I will make a decision on reserves in due course.”

“Forgetting someone, aren’t you? What about the Keeper, you berk?!” shouted Tammy, scowling at Smith with her hands on her hips.

“And Fielding will Keep, I suppose. Thanks, everyone. See you at our first game on the 18th of November, against Ravenclaw.” With that, he turned and hurried off up the tunnel. The entertainment over, most of the crowd followed, although at a much slower pace. 

“What does he mean, ‘I suppose’?” she snorted indignantly, glaring after the departed Captain while the crowd parted around her. “I mean, he’s only the best bloody Keeper that we’ve had in years!”

“Oh, never mind, Tammy, just a figure of speech,” said Gwion, with a broom carelessly slung over his shoulder. He hooked his free arm through hers and tugged her along with the rest of them. “He was hardly going to get away with choosing that skinny little thirdie over The Wall, was he?”

“Get off, Gwion!” She shoved his arm off and retaliated with a brief headlock, although she had to stretch to do it. Gwion just scooped her up into his arms, prompting an indignant squawk until he put her down again.

Evan watched them go, bickering and shoving each other in a friendly fashion, chewing his lip to keep from laughing aloud. With a final shake of his head, he started to gather up his scattered equipment. He looked up when a voice called his name to watch Michelle picking her way across the field towards him.

She beamed brightly at him, stopping by his side with a bit of a bounce. “Hey, congratulations! Another year in the team, eh?”

His lips quirked up into a small smile, “Thanks. And didn’t the captain look pleased about it?”

She scowled briefly, “The git! Worst of all, he only made himself look like an idiot for doing it.”

He let that go and tried to change the subject slightly. “So, Hufflepuff for the Cup, you reckon?”

That got him a look, but she let it pass. “Well, we should give it a decent go. There’s quite a bit of experience in there with you, Tammy, Mike and Maxi.”

He grinned up at her, “You’re making me feel old!”

She laughed, running a hand through her dark hair. “I guess we’re old codgers these days. Seventh-years - how did _that _happen?”

“I’m still wondering that myself! Can you imagine what it’ll be like come the end of the year?”

“I’m trying not to think about that just yet, there’s plenty for me to be stressing about between now and then! How are you holding up? I can’t believe Smith made you work with everyone!”

“I’ll survive. Knackered, though!”

“I’m not surprised, I feel tired just from watching you. He should have split it up between you and that third-year a bit more. OK, he wasn’t great, but at least give him a chance!”

“It was pretty obvious that he’s a bit too young. Give him some time and maybe he’ll grow into it. No point in humiliating the poor kid.”

“You mean, humiliating him worse than giving him ten minutes and pulling him out?”

He shrugged, raising a hand in acknowledgement. “Hey, I’m not saying I’d have done it, but I’m not saying I wouldn’t have, either.”

“Yeah, well, perhaps you can talk to him later, cheer him up a bit. He looked pretty disheartened.”

“It’s character building, I guess. We can’t all be Harry Potter, getting into the team as firsties.”

“Speaking of Seekers, Summerby’s really sharpened up over the summer. In fact, the weakest link is probably-”

“He’s the captain, Michelle,” he cut her off, hauling himself to his feet and starting to gather up his gear and tuck it under his arms, but when he turned back, she put her hand on his upper arm, tilting her head to look him square in the eyes.

“That makes it worse!” she said firmly. “If I was Leah Harper, I’d be feeling just a bit miffed, after that. And if anyone should be the captain, it ought to be you.”

Evan sighed, “I just need to put my kit away. I’ll walk with you back to the castle, if you like. You can call me an idiot on the way.”

She squeezed his arm and let her hand drop. “I’ll call you an idiot anyway. So will the rest of the house, probably.”

He gave her a fond smile as they set off for the tunnel under the stadium. “I know.”

* * * * *

She lingered in the shade of the Quidditch stadium, watching the successful Quidditch players and hopefuls depart in ones and twos and wishing she’d worn a thicker jumper until she smacked her forehead in frustration and cast a warming charm on herself. It wasn’t nearly so warm out of the sun, and the wind quickly sapped any warmth from her body. She had nearly given up when Evan finally appeared, a large sports bag slung over his shoulder and largely unchanged from earlier, although the sleeves of his tee-shirt had been pushed roughly up to his elbows. 

He smiled when he caught sight of her. “Hey.”

She fell in next to him, her nose wrinkling at the stench of sweat coming from him. “I was wondering if you’d got lost in there, or something. If you didn’t have a shower, what took you so long? You reek, by the way!”

“Gee, thanks. I had to spend a bit of time on my broom. It’s bad for them if they’re ridden hard and put up wet, and I really don’t want to have to scrape through the season on a school broom.”

“I thought that was horses?”

“Same thing for brooms, really. If you take care of them, they last longer and fly better.”

“Well, you’d know. Not kidding about the shower, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know, but the showers in the dorms are loads better than the ones out here, plus I need a change of clothes.”

She made a hum of agreement and let it drop. They walked in silence for a while, watching their fellow students scattered around the Hogwarts lawns, soaking up the last of the summer weather. There were a few gobstones circles amongst the younger kids, but most of them were either sunning themselves or just sitting around, chatting. A few practised their spellwork over by the castle walls, and some of the hardier ones were dangling their legs in the perennially-chilly lake. Their pace was slow and leisurely, but she could still see the creases of exhaustion on his forehead and around his eyes. 

“Are you OK?” she asked quietly. “You were working pretty hard, out there.”

She got a distracted smile, “I’ll be fine, but I’m dying for a drink.”

She bit her lip for a moment. “How about we go down by the lake? If you want, you can have a shower and stuff, and I’ll get us something cold to drink?”

He shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Where’s all the others?”

“Tammy, Mike, and Maxi were going to meet up with Becky. Roger Davies and Megs Beckton from Ravenclaw have some scheme they’ve cooked up in the library for everyone doing Ancient Runes this year. Typical Ravenclaws, stuck inside with their noses jammed in a book!”

“Maxi’s not doing Runes, though, is she?”

“No, but she gets to stare at Roger Davies!”

He grinned. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

“Me? Merlin, no! There’s a reason I’m not doing Ancient Runes. So chin up, Mr. Fielding, you’re first choice over a bunch of boring textbooks!” _And no, I’m not going to join Roger’s fan-club. Obviously._

He chuckled and nudged her with a friendly shoulder, albeit a sweaty, smelly one. “I’ll take what I can get. After all, Miss Taylor, you had to come second to a bunch of lunatics tearing around on brooms for a while.”

She laughed a little unconvincingly. _I _had_ to come second...? For a while? What’s that supposed to mean_? She restrained a sigh at herself. _Thank Merlin I’m not reading far, far too much into this. You idiot_. All the same, her head was awhirl all the way back into the castle and down to the entrance to the Hufflepuff basement. 

He tapped the barrels hiding their common room in a careless pattern, but when they slid aside, she put a hand on his arm to stop him. 

“I’ll see what I can get the house-elves to come up with. Take your time, and I’ll see you in the Entrance Hall?”

He smiled gratefully at her. “Sure. Thanks, Michelle!”

* * * * *

The house elves reacted with their usual enormous, squeaky enthusiasm, and sent her off with a picnic basket that she considered casting a lightening charm on. Back up in the Entrance Hall, she lounged against a wall, waiting for Evan to come up. The suit of armour next to her shuffled over a little to give her room, and that left her with a spectacular view out of the doors across the grounds, the sun warming her arms and legs but leaving her face in shade.

He was much quicker than she thought he’d be. This time, thankfully, he was changed and smelling of shampoo and deodorant, wearing a pair of jeans and an old, blue tee-shirt that did wonderful things for his eyes. Coming off her wall, she hooked her arm through his, and they set off.

“Much better!” she announced, taking an exaggerated sniff as they passed through the huge, oak double-doors.

Together, they picked a spot by the lake on the far side from the castle. Pushing through the long, streamer-like branches hanging from a willow revealed a surprisingly-large space around the base of the tree trunk. It was quiet and relatively private, and had been a favourite spot of theirs since second-year. She took a seat on a log they’d dragged in there years ago, while he cast himself down on the grass, sitting with his back propped up against the log next to her. 

He took the bottle of water she passed him from the picnic basket and she watched in fascination as he brought it to his lips and didn’t lower it again until it was empty. 

“I think I’d make myself sick if I did that. Feel any better?”

“I’m not sure how much of it actually made it all the way down,” he admitted. “Got any more of those in there?”

“I think the house elves have taken care of that.” She took the empty bottle back from him, carefully screwed the lid back on, then put it back in the basket and temporarily closed the lid. She gave it a few seconds, then peeked in again before plucking a fresh bottle from its depths, its sides cool and covered in condensation. “See? Just like magic.”

He chuckled, then tilted his head to look at her. “Thanks, Michelle,” he said softly, and she felt a shiver shoot down her spine. Flustered, she reached into the basket and pulled out a bottle of orange juice for herself. They sat in companionable silence, watching the shimmer of the lake through the gentle sway of the willow branches while birds sang busily. She had come to treasure these little moments of stillness and peace. Something about them pushed the pressures of school and homework and the like into the background and she could truly relax. For a while, anyway.

She looked thoughtfully down at him, a loose sprawl of long limbs with his head propped up against the log and his eyes closed. It was the first time she’d seen him properly at peace since they’d returned to school, and it had been eating at her for a while.

“Evan? I just wanted to ask how you’re doing,” she asked tentatively. “You’ve been really quiet since we got back to school, and I’ve been kinda worried about you.”

He sat up slowly, wrapping his arms loosely around his knees. He didn’t answer but pursed his lips, a puff of breath escaping thoughtfully through his nose. She understood.

“It must be so strange in your dorm without him.”

He said nothing for a long time, just staring at the gentle oscillation of the drooping willow fronds. “Yeah. Maybe we should have asked the house-elves not to take his bed away, but... I dunno. Maybe that’d make it worse.” He inhaled deeply and let it out in a long, slow breath. “Six years. Every time I turn around, I just sort of expect to see him around the place.” He shrugged helplessly, “And somehow, it always takes a while to realise what’s off about it.”

She said nothing, but shuffled forward off the log and sat beside him. Unsure of what to say, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. He was quiet for a long time.

“I dunno, Michelle. When the book lists and everything came around, Mum asked if I wanted to come back here again. And I really didn’t know what to say. I genuinely didn’t. So here I am again, I suppose, in lieu of actually making a proper decision.” He turned his head to look at her, a smile creeping over his lips and a gentleness in his eyes that sent a hard flutter through her stomach. “Although, indecision has its good points, I guess.”

He reached over with his free hand to give her arm a grateful squeeze, and reluctantly, she let him go and leaned back against the log. “Was that why you turned down Quidditch Captain?” she asked softly.

He chewed his lip thoughtfully for a while, and she let the silence grow; Evan would answer in his own time, or not at all. She knew that some people thought he was frustrating or surly, sometimes, but when things genuinely worried him, he liked to take his time and think. _Not exactly the worst trait to have, actually_.

“We all know who the Captain should be, Michelle. When Professor Sprout asked me to take over, I said I wanted to think about it. Later on, I talked to Mike and Maxi, and we decided that between us, we’d do the job but officially Cedric would carry the title. We were going to run it past Tammy to see if she agreed, but I guess Smith must have heard us and was straight in the Professor’s office, demanding the job. Anyway, the next time I saw him, he had the badge on his robes and it all seemed a bit academic at that point.”

She swallowed. “That would have been a really nice way to honour Cedric’s memory. You should have made more of a fuss about it.”

“And what, ask the Professor to take it off him again? He’s keen, I suppose, although it does mean he pretty much guarantees himself a spot in the team. And there’s something that Cedric knew that I doubt Zach Smith will ever learn - there’s more to leadership than wearing some stupid little badge, no matter who your daddy is.”

_They’d follow you without even thinking about it_, she didn’t say. _They do already._

“I think he knows he shouldn’t have done it. It’s a good thing you four are all clearly our best players, or he’d probably have found an excuse not to pick you. He seemed to be trying pretty hard when it came to you, anyway.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

She sat up abruptly and turned to him again. “You see, this is why I’ve been worried about you. Come on, Evan, you love Quidditch! Some gobby little tit like Smith is trying to kick you out of the team, and you just shrug?”

She expected a reply, a retort of some sort. Instead, worryingly, she got more of that same, thoughtful silence, his pale-blue eyes a thousand miles away.

“Maybe it bothers me less than it used to. Never thought I’d say that, but it’s true,” he said at last.

Anxiety gnawed at her stomach. “Evan, have you talked to anyone about this over the summer?”

“Quidditch?”

“No, you idiot! Everything else. Cedric. How you’re feeling. And maybe Quidditch, too. Oh, what the hell am I blithering on about, you know what I mean.”

“Mum and I talked a few times. And you, of course.” He shrugged and looked at her, strangely vulnerable in a way she never expected to see from her best friend. “I dunno, ‘Chelle, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

She felt her heart lurch, and put her hand on his arm. “Just what’s on your mind. You know I’ll always listen if you need someone to talk to, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Again, that warm smile that sent a shiver through her, and then silence descended again. She hugged her knees and pondered her next question. “Do you believe them? About Cedric, I mean?”

He rubbed his chin slowly, staring into space, and she felt their momentary closeness fade. “I don’t know. I seem to be saying that a lot, don’t I? Did Potter kill him? No, of course not. But - You-Know-Who? Really?”

“Dumbledore believes him.”

“Dumbledore didn’t even notice that one of his professors was a Death Eater in disguise! Maybe it’s just a bunch of old Death Eaters. I mean, who knows what Potter saw? He probably believes he did see You-Know-Who. I wouldn’t blame him, the last few years have been weird enough. What do you think?”

“A bit like you, really. Dumbledore believes him, the Ministry clearly doesn’t. Some of the things they’re coming out with are just nonsense, though, and the _Daily Prophet_’s loving it. It’s... it’s almost malicious, some of it. I mean, if Potter’s really attention-seeking, or even if he’s just confused, constantly sneering at him in the newspapers isn’t going to help anything.”

“There’s that business about underage magic out of school, too.”

“See, that’s what I mean. Just about everyone’s done the odd spell during the holidays once or twice, and unless there’s some sort of incident caused it’s just a snippy letter from the Ministry and a slap on the wrist. He got dragged in front of the Wizengamot!”

“Seriously? Where did you hear that?”

“Ernie Macmillan’s dad. Well, via Ernie, of course, but his dad was at the Ministry, that day - a full trial, apparently. Fudge behaved absolutely disgracefully, and that woman Umbridge was involved, too.”

Evan scowled. “I don’t know what she gets up to at the Ministry, but it’s clearly got sod-all to do with teaching. I think we can forget about passing Defence this year, on current evidence.”

“‘Now then, students, turn to page nine hundred and fifteen,” Michelle squeaked, in a passing imitation of the Professor’s saccharine tones. “‘There will-’”

“‘-be no need to talk,’” they finished together, grinning briefly at each other.

“Anyway. Potter wriggled out of it in the end, Fudge ended up looking like an idiot, and here we are, arguing about it,” she continued.

“We’re not arguing, though, are we?”

“Well, perhaps not, but you know what I mean. As for Potter, well, the Weasleys trust him, and so do Angelina and Alicia.”

“The Gryffindor girls are probably better judges than Fred and George, though.”

“Yeah. I mean, maybe you’re right and Potter only _thinks _it was You-Know-Who, but they reckon he wouldn’t lie about it.”

Evan blew out his cheeks. “Cedric thought he was OK, too. You know, I hope Potter’s wrong. I really hope he is, because otherwise...”

He trailed off, his meaning clear, and she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the heat of the day.

“I really hope he is, too.”

He looked up at her and, just for a second, he looked frightened. She felt her heart clench in empathy. If You-Know-Who was back, then all of them were in terrible danger. Last time, the nasty civil war had claimed many hundreds of lives before a miraculous little boy had stopped it in its tracks. Evan knew that as well as anyone - his father had been one of the casualties. And now, with the death of one of his closest friends and the potential resurrection of the wizard that had nearly destroyed British wizarding society on his mind, no wonder he had been so quiet and withdrawn. Tentatively, she slid her arm around his shoulders, and he leaned against her. Neither of them spoke, just watched the sunset gradually turn the dark waters of the lake a burnished gold.

* * * * *

After a quiet dinner in the Great Hall, Michelle made her way back to her dorm to have another session on her Transfiguration homework. There was no sign of Becky, and Maxi would be on prefect duty with Mike, but Tammy was sprawled out on her bed with a Charms textbook in front of her and her lower legs kicked up behind her and crossed at the ankles. From the frustration on her face, Michelle concluded that she was still having trouble with her Charms homework.

At her entry, Tammy muttered a rude word and dropped her book onto the bed. “All right, Michelle? Are you getting this damn non-verbal stuff to work, at all?”

Michelle pulled her wand out and, after a slight hesitation, made a bottle of foundation on Tammy’s side table do a figure-of-eight loop and turn green. 

Tammy swore in disgust. “I can’t believe you make it look so easy! How do you do it?”

She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear nervously, “Oh, well, the first thing I try to do is to relax. I’ve noticed that people tend to strangle their wands a little when they’re trying too hard. I mean, I can do all this stuff normally, and I just relax and focus on what I know happens... I’m sorry, I’m not explaining very well, am I? You know you can do it, you manage just fine in Transfiguration and Defence. Evan’s probably the best person to ask, he’s top of the class in Charms, after all.”

“Ha! Well, you’re certainly no worse at explaining it than anyone else I’ve asked, and your Charms are better than most. Gah, why did I opt for N.E.W.T. Charms?”

“Because I was going to take it and you wanted someone to study with?” Michelle suggested, heaving her Transfiguration textbook free from her school bag.

Tammy snorted sourly. “Don’t remind me. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” She bit her lip and looked at Michelle thoughtfully as she sat on her bed. 

Finally, she cracked. “What?”

“I saw you down by the lake, earlier. Another steamy non-date with Lover-Boy, was it?”

She huffed sharply in annoyance and glared at her friend. “Shouldn’t you have been stuck in the library, drooling over Roger Davies with the rest of his fan club?”

Tammy fluttered her eyelashes and blew a mocking kiss at her. “Dandy Davies is _very_ drool-worthy to the rest of us. As for you, don’t tell me you sat there and just talked about the weather? Quidditch? Puh-lease!”

“Shut up, Tamsin! It’s none of your damn business!”

“Oh, but it is!” Tammy sat up and returned her glare. “For Merlin’s sake, you’re still toying with him, after all this time? Come on, Michelle, get a grip!”

“No, I’m not! And anyway, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? You really want me to answer that? OK, then, I’m sick of watching someone manipulate one of my mates, that’s what! Just because it lets you feel like you’ve finally got some power in your life, and he’s too bloody nice to say anything about it!”

She stared at Tammy in shock and felt her eyes fill with tears, hot, helpless rage burning through her. “You want to know what we were doing this afternoon, Tamsin? OK, fine! We sat there and talked about just how bloody depressed and messed up he’s feeling right now. Of course, you knew that already, didn’t you? ‘Cos he’s ‘your mate’. Well, he’s my best friend, you _bitch_!”

There was a long, horrified silence, broken only by her angry sniffling. Eventually, she heard the slow creak of bedsprings.

“You’re right. I am being a bitch,” Tammy said in a low voice. “Evan’s having a bad time of it?”

She nodded wordlessly, wiping her eyes roughly with the heel of one hand. 

Tammy was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking uncharacteristically small and ashamed. “If I was half the mate I was just shooting my mouth off about being, I’d already know that.”

When she said nothing, Tammy swallowed, and edged cautiously across to sit next to her, putting her arm around her. She leaned into her friend, their harsh words temporarily forgotten.

“He can be bloody difficult to get anything out of, can’t he?” Tammy sighed. “Is he going to be all right?”

“I hope so. He just... I don’t think he _talks _to anyone about things, you know?” she said earnestly.

“He talks to you.”

“Sometimes. Eventually.”

“No, always,” Tammy said seriously. “If anyone else asks him about that sort of stuff, he just shrugs and changes the subject. I think you’re about the only one who gets a straight answer out of him.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Tammy let out a puff of annoyance, “You see, this is what’s so bloody frustrating about you two! You’re the one he always talks to, you’re the one he trusts the most out of everyone, you’re the one he’s always looking out for. And he’s the one you spend all your time with and the one you’re always worrying and thinking about - and yes, I can tell. We all can. He’d do anything for you, Michelle, and I think you would for him, too, but you two just dance around each other, sort of-maybe-not quite-perhaps. I had hoped that stupid Yule Ball last year might have done the trick, but no such luck.”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but gave up, realising that Tammy would never believe her, anyway. And maybe those denials weren’t exactly true, either. In the end, she settled for, “It’s a lot of things. And anyway, if it’s really like that, he could do something, you know?”

There was a short bark of disbelief, “He does, Michelle. _Constantly_. If you seriously don’t notice it, then you must be the only one. Case in point; the Ball. We’re all sitting there, having lunch. You’re sitting right next to him, because sheesh, you _always _are, and Dumbles has just dropped the big announcement. Of course, you look at him with the most love-sick, puppy-dog eyes, and what happens the second Dumbledore sits down?”

She felt herself blush wildly, “I did not! And it wasn’t quite like-”

“Oh yes it was! Go on, fill in the blank - Dumbledore’s spangly britches touch his chair and the next thing that happened was...?”

“He asked me,” she mumbled, barely audible.

“Right in one! He smiles at you like you’re the brightest star in the sky and says, ‘Michelle, would you like to go with me?’ right then and there. Straight off, no messing around. He showed up a few people that have been dating for ages, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Maybe he didn’t want to have to find some other girl, and I was just there,” she said weakly. _Not now, please not now, Tammy, I’m not in the mood to deal with this today_.

Tammy threw back her head and laughed. “Girl, the water is up to your chin and you are absolutely _surrounded _by pyramids, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michelle demanded huffily.

“You are so deep in denial, I don’t even know where to start!”

Her face flaming, Michelle stood abruptly and hugged her textbook to her chest, ready to flee to the common room when Tammy stopped her.

“Michelle! Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, not really, but... well, it can’t go on like this forever. I mean, after this year - then what?”

“I... I don’t know,” she muttered. “But you’re not helping.”


	4. Defending the Indefensible

Heading for breakfast on Monday morning, the Hufflepuffs were surprised to find a large crowd of students gathering around the noticeboard in the Entrance Hall, next to the doors to the Great Hall. Exchanging sidelong glances, they joined the throng and craned their necks to see the black-bordered poster that had drawn so much attention.

** — BY ORDER OF —**

** THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**

_ Dolores Jane Umbridge has been appointed to the post of High Inquisitor of Hogwarts._

_ This is in accordance with _

_ ** Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three** _

_ Cornelius Fudge_

_ Minister for Magic_

_ 11 September, 1995_

“The post of _what_?!” they heard one bewildered Ravenclaw boy exclaim.

“High Inquisitor. Apparently,” his friend replied.

“Yeah, that’s really warm and fluffy, isn’t it?” said Ravi, shaking his head.

“Well. Jolly. High Inquisitor - break out the rack and thumbscrews,” agreed Becky. 

“_No-one! Expects the Hogwarts Inquisition_!” Chris sniggered. The others just looked at him blankly. “Oh, come on! Really?”

Evan summed up the others’ reactions. “Uh... what?”

“Oh, never mind!” Chris sighed. 

Evan shook his head, “Well, I guess we should leave her to her Inquisiting and get some breakfast in.”

He led the way into the Great Hall, and behind him, he heard Mike laugh and say, “Yeah, unless she’s holding the bacon hostage. ‘Go on, spill the beans. No? Well, I’ll keep ya in that pan until ya do. More oil, I say! Make the bastard suffer!’”

“So, if the bacon’s burned to cinders, it’s a sure sign to run for the hills,” Maxi said solemnly.

“And if it isn’t?” Chris asked as they found a group of free seats about a third of the way along the Hufflepuff table. Evan noticed that Michelle made a point of taking a seat on the far side of him from Tammy, and wondered what had happened. She had barely even looked in the same direction as her friend all morning.

“Then the poor bloody house-elves will be mopping up spilled beans all over the place,” said Mike.

The others chuckled.

“You two are weird,” Becky announced decisively, dropping into her seat and reaching for the coffee. 

“And so, perfectly suited, don’t ya think?”

“Give it up, Becky, we can only hope it isn’t catching,” said Chris, smiling shyly at her. “Pass the milk, please?”

The first signs of anything unusual started shortly after the arrival of the post owls, with the hum of conversation taking on a more worrisome note and students started to gather around anyone with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. They could see the image of Professor Umbridge simpering out of the front page, beneath a headline announcing the appointment of the High Inquisitor, but surely everyone had seen that posted on the noticeboard outside?

“What’s up, Roger?” Maxi asked Roger Stebbins, a few seats down from her. He had a _Prophet_ on the table in front of him, Leah and Kevin leaning in to read as well.

“Huh. Everyone finished?” He re-folded the paper and passed it down to them. “Get a load of that.”

They gathered around Maxi and started to read.

“Well. That answers a few questions,” said Chris eventually.

“Yeah, like ‘Is Percy Weasley still a pompous, grovelling little turd’,” Tammy snorted. “How the hell did he get Head Boy?”

Ravi began to snigger to himself.

“What’s up, Rav?” Tammy asked. 

“So Umbridge is going to be ‘inspecting’ the teachers to see if they’re up to standard, is she? I’m just imagining Umbridge versus McGonagall. It’ll be a massacre!”

The others grinned, but Chris pointed out, “She might want to watch her step, though, they clearly have it out for Dumbledore.”

“And Umbridge is Fudge’s direct appointment,” Evan added. 

“Ah, you worry too much. How bad can it be?” Maxi said expansively, making Becky groan.

“You didn’t just say that!”

There were a few laughs, but Maxi folded the _Prophet_ and passed it back to Roger.

“Thanks, Roger. Do ya subscribe?”

“Yeah. After all, it’s always important to see what’s going on in the world.”

“And if all else fails, it’s strong, gentle, and absorbent,” said Mike, with an obvious gesture.

Becky scowled at him, “That’s disgusting, Mike!” 

“I know, but he bought it, not me.”

“That’s not… urgh, you’re impossible!”

* * * * *

Herbology, their first class of the day, passed off without incident, but they arrived at Charms just before lunch to see the unwelcome figure of Professor Umbridge lurking in the corner of the classroom. They took their seats with none of the usual joking around, instead eyeing the visitor warily. While Professor Flitwick was universally admired and respected as an excellent teacher, no-one wanted to make him look bad in any way or give Umbridge reason to find fault with him.

For his part, Professor Flitwick simply welcomed Professor Umbridge cheerfully, then plunged into the lesson with his usual enthusiasm. They never entirely forgot she was there, but she stayed spider-like in her corner, scribbling notes on a clipboard. During the practical part of the lesson, she prowled around the edges of the class, but only spoke to Gabriel and Alicia. The rest of them shamelessly eavesdropped, but the questioning was relatively brief and generic - how were the classes usually run, did they understand the curriculum, did they think Professor Flitwick was effective at teaching them - and then retreated to her corner until the bell went and they could all pile outside.

“Well, that seemed relatively harmless,” Michelle said tentatively, on the way to the Great Hall.

Beside her, Maxi snorted. “Oh, sure. She’d never be able to pin anything on Professor Flitwick, and she knows it. Wait until she gets to some of the weaker teachers.”

“Like Professor Trelawney,” Ravi said darkly. “OK, she isn’t the greatest teacher, but she does actually know quite a lot about the theory and history of Divination.”

“She’s also comfortably out ter lunch,” said Mike. “And anyway, shouldn’t that be the point? For the teachers ter be able ter actually teach what they know?”

They started down the stairs, and Maxi added, “And then there’s Professor Binns. How on earth do ya assess a ghost? Does she expect him ter change somehow? Because that’s not going ter happen.”

“Yeah, but he sticks rigidly to a curriculum that hasn’t changed since I don’t know when. I bet Umbridge will love him,” said Evan. 

“Just as long as Professor Sprout’s OK,” said Michelle.

“Are ya kidding me? She’s got ter be one of the safest out of all of them,” said Maxi stoutly.

Evan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I think all four Heads of House are OK, it’s the rest of the teachers.”

Mike’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. “Seriously, _Snape_? He’s got ter be the worst teacher here!”

“Yeah. How much more would we have learned with a decent teacher? How many more of us would bother with N.E.W.T. Potions?” said Becky.

“But look at Umbridge’s classes, then look at Snape’s. Nobody talks. Nobody asks questions. I bet she’ll think that’s just perfect.”

“Evan, can you stop depressing us? Please?” Tammy said impatiently, as they filed into the Great Hall and found a spot on the Hufflepuff table.

Becky huffed as she took her seat, and said, “I hope you’re not saying he’s wrong, though, ‘cos I don’t think he is.”

Maxi didn’t answer.

_And we all know it_, Michelle thought bleakly.

* * * * *

They battled on with their classes through a combination of determination, stubbornness, teamwork… and not having any choice in the matter. The end of class for the day became simply a signal to return to their common room and pile into their homework assignments and the required reading. What made it bearable was that they were all in it together, and they made a point of working together on their shared classes. That meant that if one of them had trouble with anything, they could bounce ideas off each other and work it out whilst it was fresh in their minds rather than try to pull someone’s head out of another subject later on. 

They only had one more inspected class in the second week, Herbology, which proceeded along much the same lines as Charms had, although it was enlivened by Anastasia Halkett of Slytherin getting a detention for throwing a Snargaluff pod at Emma Carroll of Ravenclaw. Umbridge tutted pointedly and scribbled on her clipboard, but nothing seemed to come of it. They all heard the stories from across the rest of the years, though, particularly Umbridge’s epic clash with Professor McGonagall, which was relayed through tears of laughter by Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley. 

If it wasn’t for the poisonous Anastasia Halkett sitting behind her, and the permanently-sour teacher, Michelle would have actually quite enjoyed Potions. Instead, she simply had to settle for being good at it, and she thought that was something of a shame as the seventh-year curriculum promised to stretch their abilities. The worst targets of Professor Snape’s bile and impatience had left with the students that dropped out after O.W.L.s, but he was still harsh, almost cruel in his comments when someone messed up their potion, and his explanations of the theory were brief and often barbed. Michelle had long since realised that anyone with hope of doing well needed to prepare thoroughly beforehand, and get to each lesson already primed with the knowledge and theory that they would need so that the class was more about experience of the less-tangible elements of brewing, the colour changes, bubble characteristics, scents, and textures that could never quite be captured in writing. That preparation time on top of the assigned homework, however, was daunting in itself without the demands of her other classes, and she was grateful that she had Chris to study with.

By the time Friday rolled around, they were all hungry for the weekend and, thanks to their diligence during the weekday evenings, maybe even some time of their own. Finally, the only thing standing between them and the weekend was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and it was every bit as dismally uninformative as they’d come to expect. Professor Umbridge took the roll, then set them to reading yet more of Wilbert Slinkhard’s book. There were a few quiet groans at her injunction that ‘There will be no need to talk’, quickly smothered at the sudden, ugly glare she shot the complainers.

All except Roger Davies.

He pushed his book away and raised his hand, waiting with patient stubbornness until Professor Umbridge had no choice but to acknowledge him.

“Yes, you have a question, Mr. Davies?”

“Professor, I was wondering if this is the text for the whole year?”

Professor Umbridge’s hands fluttered ineffectually, tidying her already immaculately-tidy desk. “Why, yes it is, or I would have assigned another book as well. It quite covers what you need to know in perfectly adequate detail. Now, kindly return to your- y_es, what is it, Mr. Davies_?”

Roger had raised his hand again.

“You see, I’ve skimmed through this book after the first lesson, and it makes a lot of contacting the Ministry or an adult to deal with the creatures and situations it talks about.” Roger’s voice was polite, but there was a definite edge to it, too.

“Yes, and so you should. These creatures are far too dangerous for children to deal with, and it should be left to a responsible adult with suitable knowledge and training,” said Umbridge, in her usual, sickly patronising voice.

“Well, come the end of the year when I’ve left school, I will _be_ that adult. Don’t you think it should be preparing me for this?”

Looking around, Michelle could see a few poorly-smothered grins from the rest of the class. _Go, Roger!_

“You are not yet an adult, whatever you may think-”

“Legally, Professor, I became a responsible adult in the eyes of the law when I turned seventeen,” Roger said pointedly. “As did everyone else in this class.”

By this point, all of the students had given up pretending to read, and there were a few rumbles of agreement.

“Not all of us, I became a thoroughly _irresponsible_ adult,” George Weasley added, nodding frantically. 

“Shut up, George! Professor, another case in point is the repeated insistence on negotiation. Can you explain exactly how one is supposed to negotiate with a grindylow? Or a leithfold, for that matter?”

By now, Umbridge was glaring daggers at Roger, but couldn’t quite seem to find a way to shut down his polite but pointed questions. “Well, if you read your textbook, you’d find out, now, wouldn’t you?”

“I have - and Wilbert Slinkhard doesn’t seem to have a clue. I’m not sure he’s even met a dark creature before.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, young man.”

“And I don’t appreciate my education being wilfully neglected in my N.E.W.T. year,” Roger said coldly.

The words hung in the air, and Professor Umbridge rose from her desk to glare down at him. Given her diminutive stature, it really wasn’t all that threatening. “That’s quite enough! I know there are a number of troublemakers in this class - and many others, a sign of the laxity in standards that has been creeping in to teaching at Hogwarts in recent years.”

Fred Weasley leaned over to Kenny Towler and said, in a carrying stage-whisper, “I think she’s onto you, Kenny!”

Kenny coughed hurriedly to hide a laugh, but got a searing glare from Professor Umbridge all the same. Fred just sat bolt upright and assumed a look of angelic innocence.

“After an in-depth and thorough review by Ministry experts, a suitable course of _theory-centred_ defensive magic has been devised for you which will ensure that you learn in a safe and carefully controlled environment,” Umbridge said through gritted teeth. 

“Yes, very safe. The only thing we’re at risk of is paper cuts,” muttered a mutinous voice from the back of the class. Luckily, it didn’t seem to carry to the front of the room.

“And another thing,” Roger ground inexorably on. “_Theory_-centred. A large part of our exams will be demonstration of defensive spells and counter-jinxes. So far, I don’t see any sign of us actually learning anything practical.”

“The Ministry has determined that sufficient theoretical study will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination.”

“Without ever practising them before?”

“As long as you have applied yourselves diligently, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully-controlled examination conditions,” said Professor Umbridge.

“Marvellous! So, we’ll be completely unprepared and unable to defend ourselves properly,” snorted Maxi.

“Defend yourselves from what, exactly? This is a school! I don’t know who has fostered this silly idea in your heads that you’re in some sort of danger, but it has to stop, and stop now. The Ministry is committed to ensuring that Hogwarts remains a place where children can receive a thorough education in complete safety!”

“Oh, really? Tell that to Cedric Diggory,” said Angelina Johnson angrily.

“Cedric Diggory’s death is irrelevant! It was merely a tragic accident,” she said coldly.

There was a sudden hush. Michelle just gaped at her in horrified disbelief.

“Really? That’s the first time I’ve heard being kidnapped and murdered described as an accident,” spat Mike.

“He was not murdered!”

“Are you calling Professor Dumbledore a liar?” 

Michelle recovered enough to look around her. Beside her, Evan was as still and rigid as a statue, his jaw locked so tightly that the tendons stood out on his neck and his face flushed darkly. Mike was just about vibrating with rage, and a puce-faced Maxi had thrown her arms around him to hold him down in his seat. She saw Tammy take a deep breath as if to join in, until Chris gently touched her arm, looking on the verge of tears. Ravi’s glare should have reduced the teacher to cinders.

“Professor Dumbledore was mistaken and relying on incorrect, incomplete information-”

“Oh, sure. Cedric just happened to trip over a killing curse. That could happen to anyone!” said a new voice. It was Lee Jordan, looking almost as enraged as the Hufflepuffs.

“That’s enough, Mr. Jordan! And another word from you or anyone else, and it’ll be detention! I will not tolerate being spoken to like that in my class!”

“Then stop talking bollocks and teach us what we need to know to defend ourselves!” said an angry voice from the back.

“Who said that! Who was it! Own up, this instant!”

Michelle risked a look around, and all she could see was a sea of mutinous faces.

“Come on! I’m waiting,” Umbridge continued shrilly. “I will not have such ill-mannered disrespect in my classroom! You will all stay here until the culprit comes forward.” She stalked back to her desk and took her seat primly. “I have all afternoon. In fact, I have all night, if needs be. It’s your time you’re wasting.”

Silence. It stretched on for some time.

“Oh, sod it. Whatever, it was me,” said Lee Jordan in disgust.

Michelle didn’t think so, because the voice had sounded distinctly female, but Professor Umbridge didn’t bother with such distinctions.

“Come here, dear,” she said in a tightly-clipped voice, but before Lee could move, another voice spoke up.

“Bollocks it was, it was me,” said Alicia Spinnet.

“Actually, it was me,” piped up Karen Alsop. 

“’Twas me, so it was,” Mike growled flatly.

“Aye, and me.” Maxi wasn’t to be outdone.

“_Enough_! I can see that I have a particularly troublesome group, but if you choose to tangle with me, I assure you that you will regret it. Mr. Jordan. My desk. Now.”

Lee looked around and pushed his chair back with a sigh, slouching up to Professor Umbridge’s desk. There were a few snickers from the Slytherins, which quickly died under the frigid glares of the rest of the class.

Umbridge scribbled briefly on a notepad, then tore off the leaf and handed it to him. “Detention, Mr. Jordan. Tonight. Take this to Professor McGonagall immediately. And if I hear another word - another _word_ \- from anyone else, they will join him. Do I make myself clear? I said, _do I make myself clear_?”

There was a scattered “Yes, Professor Umbridge,” from the Slytherins, which seemed to pass muster.

“You may return to your reading. There will be no need to talk.”

Michelle ducked her head towards her book, but the words swam and blurred together under her eyes. How could she say that? Even if she could stand there and lie to their faces, surely she didn’t believe it? Not even Professor Snape, never shy of exploiting a weakness to provoke a reaction, would try to pretend that Cedric’s death had been a meaningless accident. But what could they do? The person who would know, or at least take the lead… was Cedric. The absence in their lives cut a little deeper, the silence was all the more empty, because he was gone.

Suddenly, she was pushing away images of Cedric in her mind, and she had to force out a rather shaky breath and blink rapidly. There was a snicker from a few rows over, and she turned her head to look without thinking. Graham Montague was watching her with a wide smirk on his face, and when he saw her looking, blew her a kiss. She jerked her head back to her book, and now helpless anger added itself to the churning in her chest, as well.

Somehow, she made it to the end of the lesson and sat blindly through the Professor’s homework instructions. Whatever work was set floated over her, leaving no impression, and then the torture was over and they could file out after the Gryffindors. Crossing the threshold into the corridor was like breaking the surface from deep underwater, and she heard some deep breaths around her, too.

“Well, that was a resounding success, don’t you think? It’s good to see we’ve finally got a professor with her finger firmly on the pulse.” The Slytherins had been first out, and Bletchley, Montague and Warrington were lounging against the wall, watching them with insufferable smirks.

Anastasia Halkett laughed, of course, but even as Donna Robards scowled at her housemates in disgust and said, “For Merlin’s sake, Montague,” Michelle heard a growl from beside her and Mike rounded on the Slytherins with his fists bunched. Kenny Towler grabbed him from behind, throwing an arm across his chest.

“Easy, Mike! Not here, and not now.”

Evan had stopped, too, and was glaring at Montague with a flat rage that made her shiver.

“Evan-” Kenny started, but Evan took a step, then another. The cocky grin faltered on Montague and Warrington’s faces as Evan walked slowly towards them, his hands empty and by his side. When he was only about six feet away, a wand appeared in Montague’s hand. Evan paid it not the slightest mind, just continued his unhurried, implacable approach. He stopped almost nose-to-nose with Montague, his hands still empty, but his eyes burning holes in the other boy. By now looking distinctly uncomfortable, Montague looked away first.

“There are limits, Montague.”

Evan’s voice was quiet and tightly controlled, barely above a whisper. He glared at Montague for a moment longer, then turned and walked off, his pace still every bit as unhurried, and the Gryffindor girls scattered out of his way.

“Unless you know a spell to unbraid your pubic hair, I’d make myself scarce, if I were you.”

The Weasley twins were directing their own menacing looks at the Slytherins, their wands held casually but conspicuously in their hands, and, trying not to look like they were hurrying, the Slytherins slunk away. 

Mike shook Kenny off, and he and Maxi stormed off in the direction of the Grand Staircase, Tammy close on their heels, while Ravi was talking softly to Chris as they followed more slowly. She put her head down and followed them, wrapped up in her own thoughts and the crushing ache in her chest.

She could hear Mike’s furious swearing as she stepped through the Hufflepuff dormitory door.

“-evil _bitch_! Evil, lying bitch! How _dare_ she say that! Just lies-” His voice cracked, and she saw Maxi hugging him tightly. There was no sign of Tammy or Ravi, but she watched Evan exchange a couple of words with Chris and give him a brief hug, slapping the bigger boy firmly on the back a few times. Then Chris wandered off to slump into an armchair in the corner by himself. Apparently, that was all that was needed. _Boys_.

Evan, meanwhile, mooched into a quiet corner of his own where he stood staring blindly out one of the ground-level windows, idly stroking a miniature Dirigible Plum bush. She wanted nothing more than to go to him but seeing him so solitary and closed in on himself, she hesitated. Around them, the voices of their house mates slowly picked up, subdued and hesitant, but ‘Leave me alone’ was almost visibly pouring off him in waves.

She found Tammy lying on her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest. Her heart twisted sharply, and she went and sat by her friend, stroking her back soothingly.

After a minute, Tammy rolled over and swiped, half embarrassed and half angry, at her reddened eyes.

“Thanks, ‘Chelle. Sorry. Being stupid, I guess.”

Michelle swallowed, feeling her eyes brimming. “I miss him, too,” she said softly.

“And then that nasty bitch throws it in our faces. An _irrelevant accident_. Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m not as ready to be back here as I thought I was.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Where’s the others?”

“I think Maxi is trying to talk Mike out of doing anything stupid. Chris was by himself. And Evan-” Her words failed her.

Tammy gave her a sympathetic look and reached out to brush her hair back from her face. “Well, what are you doing here? Go talk to him.”

“You’re my friend, too, you know!” she said, a bit nettled.

“I know, but he needs you. Whether you admit it or not, I think you need him, too.” There was none of the usual mocking tone in her voice. “Go on, Michelle, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She hesitated a moment longer, and almost reluctantly stood and headed back to the common room.

He was still where she’d last seen him, standing and staring out the window across the grounds. Even so, it took a deep breath to steel her nerve enough to walk up behind him. 

“Evan?”

She didn’t ask if he was OK. That would be stupid.

He turned, and attempted a smile. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and feeling his arms wrap her safe and tight. A second later, she felt him rest his head against hers. She closed her eyes, feeling the tension and anger and hurt ebb away. _This is so right_. 

All too soon, she felt his arms slacken. “How’re you doing?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

“Better.” Reluctantly, she lifted her head, and her breath caught to see him so close, smiling softly at her. “You?”

“Better, too. Thanks, Michelle, I think I needed that.”

“I _know_ I needed that.”

“Well. I guess I still need to go and ditch my stuff,” he said awkwardly, straightening up and looking around them. “You want to go and find the others, or…?

“I think I just want to sit somewhere quiet for a little longer, actually.”

He gave her an understanding smile, and let her go. “Back in a minute.”

She needed a few deep breaths to steady herself as she watched him head for his dorm, his book bag slung over one shoulder, and suddenly realised that Susan Bones and Eloise Midgeon were watching her and trying to smother knowing smiles. 

“I would say I’m glad you’re finally making progress, but that didn’t look like a happy afternoon for you guys,” said Eloise.

“It was Defence.”

Susan made a face. “Cedric?”

“Yeah.”

“She did the same in our class. It was almost as though she wanted to see our reactions.”

Michelle blinked, “You know, I was thinking that. I thought I was just imagining it.”

“Well, if she wanted a reaction, she got it. Harry Potter blew his lid, and she patronised him to within an inch of his life to wind him up a bit more, and then gave him detention for it.”

“She was doing that to our lot, too, once it got going. Lee Jordan was the one who ended up with the detention.”

“Poor Lee! Harry’s on something of a short fuse at the moment, anyway, so it didn’t take much.”

“And, of course, the Slytherins think they can stir up a reaction.”

Eloise made a noise of disgust, “So predictable! Do you think they have special classes down in their dungeon in being as beastly as possible?”

“Maybe. A few of them are all right, though, I suppose,” she said, half-heartedly.

“Yeah? Like who? None of them in my year, that’s for sure.”

“Donna Robards is OK. Most of the time. Evan’s friends with that Gabriel Engel, too.”

“What about Gabriel?” said Evan, making her jump. Somehow, he had come up behind her without her noticing.

“You’re friends with him,” she explained. “Although I’ve never quite worked out why.”

Evan grinned weakly, “You just have to get where he’s coming from. And, in a way, I admire him.”

“What do you mean?” said Susan.

“Well, look at it this way. It would be easy for him to be like a lot of his house-mates. Instead, he’s got the guts and the moral fibre to be a pretty decent guy - and that sure as hell can’t be easy when he’s got to live and room with mouth-breathing drop-kicks like Montague, Bletchley, and Warrington. It must be a pretty lonely life.”

“I suppose you’re right. I still can’t say I like him, though,” Michelle said grudgingly.

“Most of his own house hate him because he’s not prepared to suck up to the old families, and most of the other houses hate him because he’s a Slytherin and they think he probably does. He said once that he takes indifference as a welcome change.”

Susan coughed out a laugh. “Merlin, that’s grim!”

“Just a bit. Come on, Michelle, you’ve had Potions with him often enough.”

“I know. He’s not like the rest of them, but…” She shrugged. While Engel wasn’t nearly as obnoxious as the rest of the Slytherins, she doubted they would ever be friends. “I suppose he’s one less of them to worry about.”

“That just leaves all the others,” said Susan, with a scowl. “Just be grateful you don’t have Malfoy to put up with. Unless you’re going to tell me he’s just a poor, misunderstood little flower, too, Evan?”

Evan grinned. “Even for me, I think that would be defending the indefensible.”

* * * * *

The Hufflepuffs spent Saturday morning churning through as much of their homework as possible, not least because the first Quidditch practise session was scheduled for that afternoon. Michelle didn’t envy them, because the wind howled around Hogwarts castle and the rain was beating heavily on the windows, and it showed no sign of letting up after lunch, no matter how much Tammy scowled impatiently out the window. 

Much later, Michelle was putting the finishing touches to her Potions homework when the common room door banged open and the Quidditch team trooped in, soaking wet and windblown. Judging by the looks on Maxi and Tammy’s faces, it hadn’t gone well. Mike and Gwion were deep in an intense discussion with much pointing and arm-waving, but they kept their voices down and disappeared off in the direction of the dorms. Evan appeared a few moments later, looking rather calmer with his kitbag slung casually over his shoulder, and he gave her a smile as he ambled past, his hair darkened and attractively spiky and his thin undershirt clinging to his body, to head for the dorm and its showers himself.

She found it difficult to concentrate after that, but wrapped up her homework all the same. Just as she slid it all into the right folders, Evan came back out, dressed in jeans and a warm pullover, this time.

“Hey, how goes the struggle?”

“I think it’s a win - or at least a draw, anyway,” she said, stretching. “Should I ask about Quidditch?”

Evan took an armchair next to hers and stretched his legs out towards the fire. “Well, no-one lost any limbs,” he said, with mock-earnestness. She laughed, and he added, “It could have gone better. Smith’s got some OK ideas, but he needs to get the hang of thinking and flying at the same time. The game is fluid, it’s never static, and set-pieces are only part of the story.” He winced at a memory, “He also needs to stop teaching his grandmother how to suck eggs.”

Michelle made an understanding face. “Tammy?”

He nodded, “And Maxi. And Mike, and Gwion, and especially Owen, the poor kid. And probably me, too, if I’m honest.”

“And what does _he_ know about Keeping?” she snorted.

“Don’t start, we’ve had enough of that with Tammy and Mike for one evening,” he said tiredly.

“Still, you’ve got some time to sort everything out before the first match.”

“Unless we all resign _en masse_. Ah, you’re right, but he’s going to have to learn that _he’s_ still got things to learn as well.”

“That reminds me, you were going to talk to that third-year who tried out for Keeper.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to, but things keep coming up.” He stifled a yawn and looked around. “Oh well, no time like the present. I don’t think I’m going to get a lot done on the homework front tonight, anyway.”

She watched as he reluctantly pried himself out of his armchair and wandered over to the small group of thirdies clustered together on one of the couches by the outside wall. 

“Hi. It’s Rafael, isn’t it?” she heard him say.

“Rafael Cervantes,” said a slim, good-looking boy, in a thick, Spanish burr. “Everyone calls me Rafa.”

“I’m Evan. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually. You tried out for the Keeper position the other week.”

“Yeah. Maybe I was a little ambitious there,” he said, with a nervous laugh. “But, you know, I thought I should at least give it a try.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not here next year, unless I fail all my classes pretty spectacularly, so we’re definitely going to need another Keeper.”

“Yeah, but I’m nowhere near as good as you.”

Evan shrugged, “I’ve got a few advantages, but there’s no reason you can’t take over next year. Stand up for a second?”

Glancing around his friends, Rafa climbed to his feet.

“Hold out your arms.”

He did, and then Evan did the same. Rafa’s friends, and a few of the watching Hufflepuffs, laughed at the huge difference in wingspan, but Evan just said calmly, “You’ve still got a lot of growing to do, and I’ve got three or four years on you yet. You can’t coach height and reach, but you _can_ coach skills, speed, reactions, and game nous. If you’re serious about this, come and find me sometime, and maybe I can help you out. Get your mates to help, too - get up on some brooms and just play attack on defence. The more you practice, the better you’ll get.”

“Really? You’d help me on this?”

“I don’t know that I’ll have a lot of time, because seventh-year is a pretty mad year, but if I can fit it in around everything else, then why not?”

Rafa beamed, “Hey, thanks! I’ll take you up on that. Anything you can do would help, you know? But, you know, Smith didn’t name any reserves this year.”

“I know. I think that’s a mistake, myself, but I’m not the Captain.”

“You should be,” growled a voice from a neighbouring table. There were a few chuckles, but Evan ignored it.

“Maybe he just wants to get to grips with the team first,” he said calmly.

“Or he’s a big-headed git,” came the voice again. This time, Michelle saw that it was from Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Again, Evan ignored it. “Give it a few weeks, let him get a handle on things, and then I’ll bring up the idea of having reserves again. We’ve got to do something, because half the team walks out of here at the end of the year.”

“Unless you don’t pass, right?” Rafa said, with a laugh.

Evan grinned, “You know, I’m hoping to avoid that possibility. Catch me on the weekend, maybe we can do something then.”

“Sure. Thanks, man!”

“Well, that seemed to go well,” Michelle said brightly, as he rejoined her.

“Yeah. Oh Merlin, I’d better get going on my homework or I really _am_ going to be here again next year,” he groaned, slumping back into his chair.

“Well, maybe relax until after dinner, and we can have a look at it after. What have you still got left to do?”

“Everyone’s favourite subject.”

“Ugh! I’ve mostly done mine, but we can go through it together, if you like?”

“‘Go through it’ seems like an accurate description.” He grinned at her, “What would I do without you?”


	5. First Defence

Breakfast on Thursday morning was interrupted by a flight of four heavily-laden owls landing in turn in front of Chris to deposit four identical, rectangular packages.

“Been doing the Christmas shopping early this year, Chris?” asked Ravi, clutching his plate of bacon and eggs protectively. The owls were snapping up the bits of sausage and bacon that Chris was rewarding them with, but some Post Office owls had a habit of grabbing whatever else was in beak range.

Chris smiled and handed him one of the packages, then gave one each to Michelle and Mike as well, keeping the last one for himself. “Something like that.”

“What’s this?” Michelle asked, turning the brown paper-wrapped object over in her hands. It was surprisingly hefty, in fact it felt very much like-

Mike ripped the paper off his and held it up for the others to see. “_Defeating the Darkness_, by Emeritus Bright.”

Seeing that no more food was forthcoming, the owls reluctantly lifted off and flew away, presumably for a rest in the Owlery. Ravi slowly put his plate back on the table, as if he was afraid one might swoop back and snatch it from him. 

“The previous textbook,” Chris agreed. “I had a look through that nonsense that Umbridge has assigned for the year, and Roger’s right, it’s all the same - if you see anything more dangerous than a flobberworm, contact the Ministry.”

“And then place yer head between yer legs and kiss yer sorry arse goodbye!” Mike said, grinning. “Where did ya get all these, then?”

“I wrote to all the Hufflepuffs I could think of that have finished school in the last few years and asked if they’d mind sending us their old textbooks, if they still had them. Anything’s got to be better than Wilbert Slinkhard.”

“Yeah. I remember Kevin Joiner saying that this has some pretty good stuff in it,” said Tammy thoughtfully, craning her head to read over Michelle’s shoulder as she flicked experimentally through the pages. 

“Well, I thought it might be useful, anyway. It’s got to be better than what we’ve got, although I don’t know who’ll actually teach us the spells and things.”

“Maybe Professor Flitwick? He’s a former duelling champion?” suggested Becky.

“We’d be asking him to set himself against Umbridge, though,” Evan pointed out. “I mean, he’s already got that Inquisition nonsense to worry about, the last thing he needs is to give Umbridge more ammunition by teaching her subject out of class.”

Tammy shrugged, “Yeah, I suppose. Maybe we’ll just have to try teaching ourselves, then. Unless someone can talk Professor Sprout into it?”

“We can ask, I suppose. If all else fails, I guess we’ll just have to take matters into our own hands. I mean, it’s not like we can do any worse, right?”

“And it’s not like they can stop us revising if we want to. Did everyone bring _Confronting the Faceless_ from last year?” Maxi asked.

“I think I ditched mine when I was trying to get everything in my trunk,” said Tammy. 

“Yeah, me too,” added Evan. “You think I should write to Mum and ask her to send it?”

“You can borrow Rascal next time he’s here, if you like,” Michelle added.

“Anyone else?” Maxi asked. The others shook their heads. “We can probably share, if we need to, then.”

“The question is - when?” said Chris. “It’s been manic so far, and I don’t have Quidditch or anything, as well.”

“Let me think about it. If everyone can get me a copy of their timetables, I’ll see if I can work something out,” said Becky.

“I don’t see the point in doing more than the bare minimum in Umbridge’s actual classes, so maybe that’ll help us a bit?” suggested Ravi. 

“Oh, Merlin, the tedium, though! Even the bare minimum is going ter bore us out of our minds,” Maxi groaned. 

“What about Hogsmeade weekends?” Chris suggested tentatively.

“Oh, _hell_ no! We need to have something to look forward to, or we’re all going to go completely insane!” Tammy said adamantly.

“There is no _way _I’m giving up Hogsmeade this weekend,” said Michelle, to a chorus of approval.

“You know, if you’d wised up and ditched it this year like I did-” Becky began, with a twisted smile, only to be cut off by Mike.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, that is. Go on, rub it in, why don’t ya?” he huffed, making the others laugh.

“It’s a bit late for that now, we can only make the best of it,” said Evan, trying to smother a grin.

Later, Michelle found herself walking beside Chris on the way out to Herbology.

“Hey, Chris. That was a great idea about studying for Defence.”

He smiled. “I just thought we should try something, rather than sit back and accept a ‘T’ for the year. Maybe it won’t work, but at least we can say we tried.”

“And if we do nothing, then all we’re doing is guaranteeing we fail, yeah. Although I don’t know where we’re going to find the time.”

“’Those of Hufflepuff are not afraid of toil’,” he quoted, then his lips quirked up in a smile. “Do you think the Sorting Hat just recycles things with its songs?”

She grinned at him. “It’s only a hat - and after a thousand years or so, it must be running out of inspiration, by now.”

“Yeah, I mean, after seven years, who’s going to know except for the teachers?”

“Maybe we should ask Professor Sprout, then?

Herbology was a practical class, busy and fun, although she saw Mike having some sort of running stoush with Miles Bletchley and Graham Montague of Slytherin when the Professor’s back was turned. Ravi was backing him up, but it was Becky, of all people, who ended up turning a hose on Bletchley twenty minutes before the end of class. Not even detention took the happy bounce out of her step on the way back up to the castle.

“Totally worth it!”

“Yeah, but once you’re out of detention you’re still going to have to get that Ancient Runes essay done before tomorrow,” Tammy reminded her.

“Yup! Totally, totally worth it!”

* * * * *

Friday evening was usually the one evening when everyone allowed themselves some time off from their schoolwork. The Hufflepuffs made a start on their homework immediately after the end of class, as usual, but after dinner they would normally allow themselves some time to unwind and relax. 

They were settling in to the comfortable chairs in the common room after dinner when Chris pointed out, “If everyone’s free, maybe we should make a start on Defence?”

They looked around at each other, and, seeing no objection, Evan took the lead.

“Where should we do this, then? I’m not sure we ought to be slinging spells around out here.”

The common room was packed with students, some chipping away at their homework, but most playing exploding snap, reading, or just generally chatting and plotting out their weekends.

“One loose spell in here, and it’d be carnage,” Mike agreed. “Boys’ dorm?”

“I guess it’ll have to be, if it’s going to be all of us. C’mon, then.”

Michelle had been in the boys’ dorm a few times over the years, and it looked much as she remembered. Mike’s Kenmare Kestrels poster hung on the wall as it had since first year, now rather faded and tattered around the edges, and textbooks and scrolls were dotted about, but otherwise the room was strangely bare. It looked _occupied_, rather than _lived in_, without the homely touches the girls had put to their dorm. 

It was also a little more empty than she remembered.

“Has everyone got their books?” Chris asked, startling her out of her thoughts.

Maxi and Tammy looked at each other briefly. “Back in sec,” said Tammy. “Your one’s beside the bed, right, Michelle?”

“Next to my Transfig. textbook, I think,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of Chris’ bed.

Tammy hustled out, and returned a few moments later with two copies of _Defeating the Darkness_. She handed one to Michelle and then flopped down on Ravi’s bed. “Right, so where do we start?”

An evil look crept across Mike’s face. “Now children, open your books and turn to page one,” he squeaked in a bad imitation of Umbridge’s saccharine tone. “There will be no need to talk.”

“Bastard!” Tammy hurled a pillow at him in disgust, and the others laughed.

“It’s a good point, actually, has anyone had time to read any of it yet?” said Evan.

Only Chris and Maxi raised their hands. Evan shrugged. 

“Oh well, maybe we can work out what bits to focus on tonight, and make some sort of a plan.”

“I don’t really want this to be a book club,” said Maxi, with a huff.

“Yeah, but it’s going to be our primary source of information in the absence of anything useful from Umbridge. First, though, I suppose we could have a general catch-up on the stuff we’re supposed to already know from last year. Is everyone up to speed on their shielding spells?”

Michelle watched as Evan corralled the others into pairs and set them casting spells at each other in the space at the end of the beds. Typical Evan. Almost without realising it, he had got them organised and maybe even suggested a plan for how this could work. _The sort of thing Cedric would have done, too_. 

The evening actually turned out to be a good deal of fun. Together, they helped each other refine their wand movements and technique, and shared tips on what worked for each of them, and Michelle was almost disappointed when they wrapped it up at curfew. It had been largely self-regulating, although Evan and Ravi had to step in to prevent a mock-war when Mike broke his girlfriend’s shield with a stinging hex and got her right on the boob. As Maxi jumped up and down and swore the air blue, Mike had just grinned impudently at her and offered to kiss it better. The resulting wrestling match had seemed rather more amorous than antagonistic, and when the rest of them had stopped laughing, they pulled the two apart.

Evan was suggesting that they all read the first chapter of the textbook and try out its contents the next Friday when Michelle heard a sing-song voice right behind her whisper, “You’re _star-ing_!”

That snapped her back to the present, and she turned to see Tammy grinning at her. “What?”

“You’re doing it again. Staring at him.”

“I was not!” she hissed, but Tammy only laughed. “I was just thinking that he’s sort of taken on the teacher role for this.”

Tammy shrugged, “I guess.” Her sly grin returned. “What, are you hoping for detention? ‘Oh, Professor Fielding, I’ve been a _very bad _girl!’”

“Shut up, Tamsin!”

She gripped her wand tightly. Her stinging hex had had a good workout already, but she wasn’t half tempted to give it one more go. Instead, she settled for turning her back and stalking out. 

* * * * *

The first Hogsmeade weekend of the year was always highly-anticipated. Not just for the shopping and socialising opportunities, but as a chance to get away from the same halls and corridors that occupied so much of their lives. It was also an opportunity for those so inclined to make more romantic arrangements, as Ravi noticed when he saw his little sister bustle into the common room with her friends, smartly-dressed and made up.

“And where do you think you’re off to, all dolled up like that?” he demanded, with his hands on his hips in mock-seriousness despite the huge grin on his face.

Jasmin scowled fiercely at him and crossed her arms. “None of your beeswax, Ravi.”

“Oh? It wouldn’t have anything to do with, say, a certain _handsome_ young Seeker of our acquaintance, would it?”

Owen Summerby’s cheeks bloomed fiery red, but Jasmin just marched right up to him and slipped an arm around his waist, giving her brother a challenging glare.

“And so what if it did?”

“Oh, nothing. You know, just keeping an eye on my little baby sis, that’s all. Mum and Dad wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I bloody might!”

“Ravi! Ravi, do it right, man!” Mike said, trying to suppress his glee. “You’re supposed to threaten _him_, not her!”

Ravi just waved a hand dismissively. “Eh, Owen’s all right. In fact, I’d be more worried for him than her. You want to be careful, mate, she’s proper evil, she is.”

“And one of these days I’m going to prove it on you!” Jasmin snapped, stomping for the door and dragging the horribly-embarrassed Owen along behind her, to the laughter of their housemates.

“Ravi, I think you’re the evil one!” said Becky, giggling. “Leave the poor kids alone!”

He just laughed. “Think of all the awkwardness I’ve saved them! Jasmin’s as stubborn as anything, so all I had to do was look like I was going to start on them, and she went straight for the jugular. ‘Damn you all I’ll do what I want’. It never fails!”

“Yup, properly evil. Like an oversized, Machiavellian cupid!” said Becky, pulling her wand. There was a flash of light, and suddenly, Ravi had gained sparkly gold fairy wings, and a little gold bow in his left hand. 

He looked startled for a second, then just grinned and minced exaggeratedly for the door, throwing kisses left and right. “Mwah! Mwah! Look at me, everyone, I’m _fabulous_!”

It was quite a while before Becky could stop laughing long enough to undo the spell.

Down in the Entrance Hall, there was the usual crowd and hassle of getting their names marked off by Mr. Filch, and then they could step out onto the lawns, free for the rest of the day.

Nearing the gates, Michelle spied Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins loitering with intent. _As if they ever loiter any other way, I suppose_.

“Ah, look, it’s our favourite, den-dwelling, cuddly grouches,” George beamed, falling into step with them.

“Look at ‘em, off to frolic in the jolly fields of, er, Hogsmeade.”

Lee Jordan shook his head in long-suffering bemusement. “You guys really need to work on your patter.”

“What’s up with you madmen this time?” Mike asked, stifling a chuckle. 

Both of the twins jerked their heads for them to follow, and after exchanging a confused look, the Hufflepuffs let them lead the way.

“Any ideas, Lee?” Becky asked, in a low voice.

He just gave her a tight smile. “You’ll find out in a second. Don’t worry, we won’t keep you long.”

They walked in relative silence for a few minutes, gradually drifting off the well-beaten path to Hogsmeade, until they reached a spot with a clear view in all directions, just far enough off the path not to be suspicious and not to be overheard.

George rubbed his hands together uneasily. So, uh… Defence, eh?”

“Or more to the point, Umbridge,” continued his twin.

“We don’t know about you, but we’re taking umbrage at the way she teaches - or doesn’t.”

“Oh, Merlin, you didn’t go there!” Maxi exclaimed in disgust, ignoring a few snorts of amusement around her.

The twins just grinned. “Someone had to!”

“I’m sure Wilbert Slinkhard is a very worthy and learned man,” continued George.

“Or at least, we might be, if he wasn’t so stunningly soporific.”

“But anyway, what are you going to do about Defence?”

Michelle looked around the group, but no one seemed especially willing to go first. Eventually, Evan took the lead.

“We’ve been talking about that, too. We decided that we’ll do what we have to do to scrape by in class, but we’ve got the old textbooks and things from last year to see if we can actually learn something useful. We’ve been doing a sort of study group after class.”

“The trick is fitting it in around everything else,” Tammy sighed. 

The Gryffindors looked momentarily surprised. “You’re teaching yourselves?” asked Lee.

“Well, yeah. I mean, we thought about asking someone like Professor Flitwick, but with Umbridge sticking her nose into everything, we don’t want to get him into any trouble, you know? Especially with all that assessment nonsense.”

George grinned fiercely. “I’d love to see it, actually, Flitwick could turn that old bat inside out before she could blink, if he had a mind to.”

“He’s far too much of a gentleman, though. More’s the pity,” said Fred.

“Anyway, we’ve been thinking.”

“Hard to believe, but true.”

“What would you say to a sort of inter-house study group? Something a bit more organised than a couple of you just slinging spells at each other?”

Evan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It sounds OK in principle, but we’re having enough trouble just getting our own schedules in order to keep up with N.E.W.T.s, let alone trying to find something that’ll suit everyone else, too.”

“Ye-es, we were thinking a bit larger than just the N.E.W.T. class, to be honest,” said George. “Basically, anyone who has any ambition of passing Defence this year.”

“Again, good in principle, not so sure it will work in reality. And I bet you won’t get Umbridge to agree to it, so finding a place you can all get together that she won’t find out would be next to impossible.”

“Yeah. I mean, we can use the common room, or more likely one of the dorms, without her charging in on us,” said Becky. “It’s also a lot easier to justify, because it’s not like she can stop us doing homework.”

“It’d be nice if she’d try, though,” sighed Ravi, earning a few laughs. 

George shrugged. “Suit yourselves. If you change your minds, you know where to find us.”

“Although we’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone else, if you know what I mean.”

“Your secret is safe with us, don’t worry,” said Evan.

The twins forced matching smiles.

“Well, we won’t hold you up any longer. Places to go, supplies to stock up on,” said Fred.

“Deserving Slytherins to terrorise,” added his brother.

“Subversion, rebellion, and the fall of the Ministry to plan, that sort of thing,” said Lee, with a resigned sigh. “Catch you guys later.”

With a chorus of goodbyes, the Hufflepuffs headed back for the path and Hogsmeade village.

“What did you guys make of that, then?” said Tammy, glancing back over her shoulder. Michelle turned to look, too, but the Weasley boys seemed to have vanished, leaving Lee Jordan mooching along on his own, hands deep in his pockets.

“Ah, it’s obvious, so it is. If there’s any danger of anyone passing an exam in Defence this year, it’ll be through something like that, won’t it?” said Maxi.

“They’re thinking a bit bigger than we did, is all,” said Mike. “Good luck to ‘em planning all that, though, it’ll never work.”

“And it’ll be way harder to keep quiet, too. Umbridge will have a fit if she finds out,” Maxi agreed.

“We can but hope.” 

Once they reached the village, they split up into ones and twos on the general understanding that they’d probably meet up again in the Three Broomsticks for lunch. Michelle waved to Eloise Midgeon and Susan Bones, and then got pulled into a conversation with them and Lisa Turpin of Ravenclaw on the best way to stew Mandrake roots that they would be using later in the year to brew an Invigoration Draught. The fifth-years were sweating over Snape’s threats to make them test their work by taking it themselves, so no one wanted to get it wrong. The younger girls were throwing sly looks Evan’s way, and he took the hint and wandered off to look at the display in the window of Spintwitches. She felt a stab of annoyance at being the butt of their jokes once again, but tried to smother it and explain the process as best she could.

She found him a little further down the street, window-shopping at Literature & Latte, the new coffee and book shop that had recently opened. “It’s OK, it’s safe to come back, now.”

He turned at the sound of her voice, and smiled. “All set? Where did you want to go?”

“I need to go to Pippin’s and Dogweed & Deathcap to stock up on a few things, and I wouldn’t mind going to Dervish & Banges, either. What about you?”

“I thought I’d send a letter to Mum, and I probably need to buy some more socks, too. It’s getting cold, and all my decent winter socks are showing their age.”

She smiled at him and linked her arm through his. “Post Office first?”

Together, they selected a tawny owl to take Evan’s letter, and then ambled slowly for Pippin’s Potions. The streets were crowded with students, cheerful faces everywhere. No one hurried, because they had all day, and so any progress down the main street was largely a long, running conversation with whomever you bumped in to next. Michelle loved these days - and there was the tall, handsome figure of her best friend right there next to her, too.

She left him outside Pippin’s while she made her purchases - she didn’t really want to have a boy there for _those _sorts of things - and came out to find him talking, rather warily, to Donna Robards. Donna was a short, rather thin Slytherin girl with bobbed brown hair, and it was a surprise to see a smile on her normally impassive face. _She looks rather different when she smiles, much nicer_.

Donna’s smile faded when she saw Michelle. “Anyway, I, uh, I ought to be going. See you around, Fielding. Taylor.”

“’Bye,” Michelle said, looking at Evan in confusion, but he simply lifted a hand and said ‘See ya later’. It didn’t seem right somehow to ask what Donna had been doing, talking to him. With a mental shrug, she put it out of her mind.

Dogweed & Deathcap was heaving with students, all stocking up on various Potions ingredients that had expired, run out, crumbled, melted, grown tentacles, been forgotten, or, in her case, could only be bought now that Professor Snape had revealed what they would be working on that year and provided the right permits. Michelle filled out a form and handed it in at the till, but old Mr. Dogweed was rather overcome by the rush and suggested she come back after lunch. Evan was talking to his Slytherin friend, Engel, again, who had the same problem as her, and although Engel said ‘Hi’ in his familiar dry, acerbic tone that she could never warm to, she mostly just let the boys talk while she admired some of the jarred and bottled specimens displayed in the window.

A few minutes later, Evan rejoined her. “So, do you want to go to Dervish & Banges, or can I make a quick run through Gladrags?”

“Gladrags? I have nothing much I need to actually get at Dervish & Banges, I just want to have a look around and see if they’ve got anything new and interesting. And then maybe it’ll be lunch time?”

“Sounds good to me.”

The depressing thing about shopping with a boy - or clothes-shopping, at least - was that they spent no time browsing the racks. True to form, Evan went straight up to the sock display, found the right size, and grabbed _that one-that one-that one_ and he was done. If there was a redeeming feature to his infuriatingly direct habits, he didn’t mind standing around while Michelle tried on scarfs and eyed up winter robes and the new evening wear collection - although she noticed that he discreetly wandered off to pay for his purchases when she reached the lingerie section. 

They were the first of their usual gang to reach the Three Broomsticks, but just as they claimed a table, they were joined by Becky and Tammy, both loaded down with bags, and Ravi, who was sporting a new haircut.

“Looking sharp, Ravi,” she said, as she took the chair next to him.

He smoothed a hand over his neatly-styled hair, and grinned. “I hate it when I start to look shaggy.”

“If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up a clothes-horse like Dandy Davies in Ravenclaw!” said Tammy teasingly.

“Nah, he has to work on it. I _always _look good!”

“And so modest!” Becky snickered.

“What can I say? It’s a burden, but I make the best of it.”

“Like you did earlier, when Becky got you?” Michelle asked.

He shrugged. “Hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. If you haven’t, fake it.”

Mike and Chris arrived next, both carrying bags with the Honeydukes logo on them; Mike had been collecting orders for sweets from all the first- and second-years for the last week or so. There was no sign of Maxi, but Mike explained, “She was off with Vinu and Megs from Ravenclaw, and Trish from Gryffindor.”

Being early, their lunch was quick to arrive, and by the time they’d finished, the pub was really starting to fill up. Mike and Evan were deep in discussion about Quidditch equipment, and they made their excuses and wandered off in the direction of Spintwitches - it seemed that there were _some_ things boys were prepared to shop normally for, after all - but just when she was contemplating asking Becky if she fancied a visit to Honeydukes, she ran into Alicia Spinnet and Karen Alsop of Gryffindor. It was nice to spend some time with girls from outside the Hufflepuff world, and they spent a good hour scouring the sweet shop’s shelves and discussing the new recipes that had joined their old favourites. The girls even accompanied her to Dervish & Banges, where she could finally browse its fascinating shelves, laden with automatons and gadgets and whirring mechanisms that let out occasional puffs of coloured smoke for every conceivable purpose. It was an intriguing place, full of outstanding examples of the Charms-Master’s art where magic was made _physical_. _Maybe one day, that could be _me _blending metal and charms and crystal and maybe even potions…_

Outside, they met up with Kenny Towler and Lee Jordan, and the gang went on a general wander around the village. Lee looked rather happier than earlier, although he didn’t mention anything to do with the Weasley twins’ mysterious plans. Granted, he was more focused on trying to charm Alicia, with a notable lack of success, although her Gryffindor friend did look coolly amused at his attempts. 

The sun was sinking fast and the cold was setting in when they reluctantly decided to head back to Hogwarts. Maxi and a couple of Ravenclaw girls from sixth-year joined them, Cho Chang and her friend Marietta Edgecombe, and she spotted Evan talking to his Slytherin friends, Engel and Donna Robards again. When he saw her, he spoke briefly to Donna and Engel, but they hung back and he caught up to her on his own. 

“How was your afternoon?” he asked quietly. The warmth in his eyes seemed to travel right through her, and she found herself rather breathlessly telling him about her day. She cringed internally, feeling sure she was making an idiot of herself, but he listened with a smile on his face and dropped in the occasional question. _When I let him get a word in edgeways_.

They had just reached the edge of the village when Evan grabbed her sleeve. “Oh, hey! Did you go back to Dogweed’s?”

She stopped dead. “Oh, crap! I forgot!”

Evan chuckled, “If we get a move on, I think we ought to get there before they close.”

“Yeah. Um, I can just-”

But he just grinned at her and set off by her side. 

As it happened, Mr. Dogweed was nodding gently on the tall, wooden stool he kept behind the till, the shop otherwise empty. He roused himself and plucked out a fragrant package for Michelle, and she thanked him profusely. When they turned to leave, he followed, shut the door behind them, and turned his sign to ‘Closed’.

Evan watched the sign swing on its hook and turned to grin at her. “D’you think he’s trying to tell us something?”

She let out a huff of amusement. “Sorry for being such an idiot. You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”

He just shrugged. “Hey, it won’t kill me. C’mon, or Filch will be even grumpier than usual.”

The thick cloud meant that it was a cold and gloomy walk back to the castle, but the company of her best friend provided all the warmth and light that she needed. On the whole, she decided, it had been a great day out.

* * * * *

On Monday, they found a huge crowd in the Entrance Hall, all talking across each other and showing a remarkable reluctance to pass into the Great Hall for breakfast.

“What the heck is this?” said Mike, elbowing his way past a dawdling third-year that ignored his request to move aside.

“A new power trip from Umbridge, I’ll put a Galleon on it,” said Ravi darkly.

“I can see Trish by the notice board, so I won’t bet against a sure thing,” Chris said, with a sigh. “Shall we go and see what she’s cooked up this time?”

They squeezed their way over to the doors to the Great Hall. It was easiest just to follow in Chris’ wake, as their towering friend passed like a polite, very apologetic, but determined icebreaker through the chattering crowds. All around them, Michelle could hear anxious voices that did nothing to calm her trepidation.

“_It can't possibly be!_”

“_That would mean everything - Quidditch, gobstones-_”

“_What about the choir, we’ve spent ages-_”

“_-My Charms club... heck, that could mean the Houses themselves!_”

As they got closer, they could hear the Head Girl doing her best to direct traffic, without much success.

“Come on, shift along, you lot! Either in or out, we can't fit the whole school in the Entrance Hall, and we need to be able to pass.”

“What is it, Trish?” Chris asked. 

Trish huffed in exasperation, pushing her frizzy, brown curls back out of her face. “See for yourselves! Umbridge has out-done herself this time.”

** — BY ORDER OF —**

** THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS**

_ All Student Organisations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organisation, Society, _

_ Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be _

_ sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club may _

_ exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an _

_ Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_ The above is in accordance with_

_ **Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.**_

_ Dolores Umbridge_

_ HIGH INQUISITOR_

_ 7th October, 1995_

Maxi was the first to react. “_All_ student organisations? I mean, the Houses _are_ an organisation of three or more students.”

“Surely not, me darlin’. We’d have heard from Professor Sprout by now, not just run across it on the noticeboards like this,” Mike said, although his voice was lacking in conviction.

Tammy snorted in disgust, “Huh. Petty, power-crazed, totally unnecessary, and badly thought-out. Yep, it’s from Umbridge, all right.”

That got a few, very short, huffs of sour amusement from the others.

“Where’s Roger? Shouldn’t he be helping you?” Chris asked.

Trish scowled, and shoved her glasses up on her nose. “I think he’s gone to try and talk some sense into Umbridge.”

“Ha! Good luck with that,” said Tammy.

“I doubt it’ll make a difference, but he thought he’d at least try. Oh, and - prefects’ meeting after class this afternoon.”

“I can’t see that we’ll have a lot to talk about, ‘cause it looks like the mad ol’ bat has just banned them, too!” said Mike in disgust

“OK, guys, _please_ will you move on for breakfast, or into the castle, or anywhere, just not here,” Trish said plaintively. “It’s going to be like sardines in here in a minute if people don’t stop milling around.”

“Sorry, Trish, c’mon everyone,” said Evan. He turned and led the way into the Great Hall, where the tables were sparsely populated.

“Well, what a coincidence. Just when Fred and George start talking about secret homework clubs, this comes out,” Evan said in a low voice, sliding into a seat and reaching for a tureen of porridge.

“Well, I didn’t say anything!” snorted Maxi.

“No-one says you did, I’m just saying that this can’t be a coincidence.”

Around them, they could hear the same topic being discussed and repeated and turned over and over. Michelle tuned them out and concentrated on her breakfast, until she heard Maxi ask the 64,000 Galleon question.

“So, what do we _do _about it?”

Evan shrugged, and poured himself some coffee. “I’m not sure there’s much we _can_ do about it. She’ll only be here a year, like all the other Defence teachers. It’s just our luck that we’ve got her this year.”

“Huh. Just our luck, all right!” Maxi said. “Why couldn’t we have had Professor Moody _this_ year, instead of last year?”

“But that wasn’t Professor Moody, was it, now? It was some psycho old Death Eater in disguise!” Mike pointed out.

“Yeah, but at least he actually taught us something useful!”

Chris shook his head, “Does this strike anyone else as a completely surreal conversation? Yeah, let’s totally bring back the Death Eater, he wasn’t as bad as the current teacher!”

They all laughed. 

“Evan’s right, she’ll be gone at the end of the year, anyway,” said Ravi. “Unless the Weasley twins manage to drive her insane before then, that is.”

Maxi snickered, “They’re making a good start!”

If there was one thing they’d learned over the preceding six years, it was that the Weasley twins liked a challenge, and they had quickly risen to the occasion with every bit of their usual inventiveness. The incident with the Andalusian Drop Squid bore all the hallmarks of their work, and they took great glee in using Umbridge’s words and logic against her wherever they could. Most notably, Fred and George’s reaction to the presence of a magical creature - any creature, from a pygmy puff upwards - around Professor Umbridge left the rest of them in tears of laughter. With no warning, there’d be a loud scream of, “_Argh! Magical creature! Run away! Flee! We’re all going to die!_”, and they’d bolt in the opposite direction, gibbering in mock terror. Detention, at that point, was probably inevitable anyway, but they made sure by quoting Wilbert Slinkhard at her. 

They argued the ins and outs of the strange pronouncement all through breakfast, and around them, they could hear the rest of the school doing the same. It was just so _arbitrary_.

Across from her, Ravi was picking at his muesli, lost in thought. Eventually, Tammy asked him, “All right, Ravi?”

He gave her a wan smile. “Do we keep doing what we’re doing for Defence?” he asked in a low voice. “I mean, technically that could be a, a whatdoyacallem-”

“‘Club, Organisation, Group, or Society’,” quoted Mike.

“I think ya missed a couple,” Maxi pointed out.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“Anyway,” said Ravi, trying to get things back on track, “Do we risk it? I don’t know if she’d actually go through with it, but I don’t fancy getting expelled.”

“We don’t have to worry about that,” said Evan firmly.

“But what about-”

“All we’re doing is Defence homework,” he said, looking around the group with unexpected intensity. “Nothing more. If she wants to ban that, she’ll have to ban all homework.”

“She won’t see it that way.”

“We have to get out of the mindset that we’re doing something wrong, here. Call it what it is - Defence homework. And it is.”

“Evan’s right,” said Michelle. She blushed a bit to see everyone turn to look at her, and tried to explain. “If we act like it’s something secret, like we’ve got something to hide, someone will pick up on it and we can get ourselves into trouble without really meaning to. If we accept that it’s perfectly normal, then it will become perfectly normal. And it kind of is. I mean, we do reading outside class for all our other subjects, right?”

“Speak for yourself,” muttered Ravi, although he looked a bit happier, and the others chuckled. “All right, I just thought I should throw that out there.”

“You weren’t the only one thinking it,” said Becky.

Michelle had finished her porridge and was contemplating a slice of toast when she heard a voice in the Entrance Hall roar, “_Alright, move! Everyone out, or I’m going to start hexing people! You’ve got ten seconds!_”

Tammy laughed, “All right, go Trish!”

Chris paused, looking worried, then pushed back from the table. “Uh, maybe we should… you know.”

“Stop her from doing something that’ll get her expelled?”

“Yeah, something like that. See you in class.”

With that, he hurried out. Evan and Michelle watched him go. “Uh… Chris and Trish. You think?” said Evan, nodding after their friend.

Michelle smiled. “I hope so, Chris could do with some happiness.”

“Yeah. Oh well, they’ll figure it out, I’m sure. After all, how hard can it be?”

She forced a smile. _Harder than you know, sometimes, Evan. Harder than you know._

* * * * *

Some days, school seemed like a needless imposition. The 17th of October was one of those days. After a long and frustrating day, when Professor McGonagall’s patience seemed even more strained than usual in Transfiguration and Maxi had nearly managed to set the greenhouse on fire when warming a snargaluff during Herbology, Evan walked into his dorm to see Mike lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with one arm tucked behind his head. Quietly, he dropped his book bag and pulled off his school robes before reaching into his drawers for a sweater. 

“All right, Mike?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“I thought you’d be with Maxi?”

“Nah, she wanted to be with the girls, today.”

Evan made a small grunt of acknowledgement and sat on his bed, pulling on his favourite blue sweater. “I’ll get lost, if you like,” he said, threading his arms through its sleeves and pulling his shirt cuffs down.

Mike glanced over at him. “You’re OK, mate. Besides, you’re probably thinking what I am.”

He hesitated for a second, then moved on to his collar. “Yeah. I always liked Cedric’s birthday. The fun part of being back at school would have worn off, the weather would be closing in, and then there’d be a party to look forward to.”

“Remember second year? And Ravi still can’t look at strawberry trifle again!”

They both chuckled, and Evan said, “Well, we told him, but he was determined to finish the whole thing!”

“Well, yeah, after you, Cedric, and Tammy started placing bets!”

“You joined in pretty quickly, as I remember!”

“At least you guys were kind enough ter let the birthday boy off the hook, but bloody Maxi insisted. Evil woman!”

“Hey, that should have been your first warning. Don’t bet against her unless you want to streak around the common room in your underwear!”

“True, that.”

They trailed off into silence once more, the brief burst of cheer fading. Evan found himself fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater again, and the words came out almost of their own volition.

“You know, I know we’re busy this year. Flat out, half the time, but I kind of feel like… not that I’ve forgotten him, but that I ought to think of him more often, you know? I know I can’t just sit here and mope about it, but…”

Mike looked over at him, his normally-jovial face serious. “I know exactly what ya mean, mate. It’s seeing the Chasers fly a certain formation, or walking past a certain spot, or overhearing a phrase he’d say or laugh at, and there’s that little thought of ’Cedric’ that pops into your brain, and then ya realise that it can’t be.” He let out a long sigh. “I miss him,” he said at last. “I think I always will. It seems wrong ter get caught up in the now, ya know, but ya kinda have to. Ya can’t live in the past. All I can say is that I’ll not forget him.”

After a moment’s contemplation, Mike rolled to his feet and clapped Evan on the shoulder. “Come on. I don’t know what the right answer is, but I do know things are better when we’re with our mates. I reckon I’ve done enough moping on my own.”

Evan looked up at him, then grabbed his outstretched hand and let the Irish boy pull him to his feet.

* * * * *

Cautiously, they continued their Friday evening sessions with _Defeating the Darkness_, and as Evan repeatedly emphasised, they made sure to always refer to it as ‘Defence homework’ rather than anything else. The sessions themselves were rather slow and piecemeal. In the absence of an experienced teacher many of the spells and concepts were tricky to pick up, but they stuck at it, and the first of them to perfect any spell was expected to coach the others to bring them up to the mark. It was slow and often frustrating, but it was better than nothing - and utterly different from the interminable reading that Umbridge set for them in her class.

Away from class, most of the House were on tenterhooks as Zacharias Smith lobbied Umbridge unsuccessfully for several weeks for permission for the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team to reform. It didn’t pass unnoticed amongst the other Houses that Slytherin received permission straight away, thereby benefiting from weeks of extra practice. Finally, after several weeks of holding it over them, Umbridge relented, and Smith set about a complicated practice regime despite the horrendous weather. The heavy rain and high winds made flying almost impossible at times, and Evan even had Care of Magical Creatures held inside the castle on one particularly foul day.

Evan’s attempts to broach the subject of reserves for the Quidditch team were turned down flat. “We’ve got far too much to work on as a unit, and we’ve lost precious time. We need as much time as possible in the air at the moment, and we can’t bugger about hand-holding a bunch of newbies, too.”

“I don’t know who’s worse, Umbridge or bloody Smith,” he said to Michelle one evening in frustration. Perhaps because Smith was so unyielding, he did make a point of finding a few hours here and there to spend with the third-year, Rafa Cervantes, and tried to include him and a few of the other promising trialists to hang out with the rest of the Quidditch team when Smith wasn’t around. 

If Umbridge had been forced to give ground on the Quidditch teams, she was making up for it by tormenting Professor Trelawney, Ravi reported gloomily. “She’s a bit of a mad old bat, everyone knows that, but just about every other lesson, Umbridge is turning up to get a few more little digs in, and she’s really starting to go to pieces. It’s not just her usual melodrama, either. It’s kinda horrible to see, actually, but what can you do? The whole thing is all kinds of messed up.”

One evening in the common room a few days before Halloween, Becky dragged him away from a Transfiguration essay and gathered all the seventh-years up to broach an idea she had been working on. 

“So, I’ve had this idea for the Halloween feast. You know how we always sit together with the same people, just like we do all the time-”

“Except we get to laugh at the boys slaughtering the roasts,” Tammy added.

“-_like we do all the time_,” Becky continued determinedly, as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “And I thought, why don’t we change things up a bit? We could do a seating plan to make everyone sit with different people for a change. We’d get to know more of our housemates, maybe have some simple games and so on, just generally make it fun. What do you think?”

“Becky… really? I mean, what if we pair up people who hate each other? It’d be a disaster!” Ravi pointed out.

“Then we just have to do some planning. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

“Ya have a strange and twisted idea of fun, ya know that?” said Mike.

“How much time is this going to take?” asked Evan. “With class and the like, I don’t think I can afford to spend ages on it.”

“Not long. You won’t even have to do any prep, the whole idea is that it’s quick and simple. It’ll be great!”

“Maybe she’s right. It won’t kill us to talk to some other people for an evening,” Chris added shyly.

Mike grinned. “_Et tu_, Chris?”

“Well… if it doesn’t take too long, I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” said Evan. “Just make sure you clear it with Professor Sprout.”

Becky beamed, bouncing on her toes. “Trust me, I’ll take care of everything. All you guys will have to do is turn up and sit where you’re told. And maybe take a lead, I mean, we are supposed to be the senior students this year.”

And so it came to be that when the first Hufflepuffs started entering the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast, there was a minute’s circling the table reading name cards, but quickly those that recognised their neighbours’ names were calling them over and soon there was a loud and happy chatter of voices. Evan was standing about two-thirds of the way along the table, directing newcomers and explaining things to them, when a voice addressed him from behind.

“Fielding.”

He turned. “Hi, Gabriel. Happy Halloween, and all that.”

“You, too.” Gabriel watched the Hufflepuffs for a moment with his hands on his hips and an amused expression. “You know, this has to be about the most Hufflepuff thing I’ve ever seen.”

Evan grinned, “I think that’s the point.”

Gabriel just shook his head, “Well, quite. Anyway, enjoy the feast.”

“Thanks mate, you too.”

He found his name on a little card not far from the staff table at the front, and slid into his seat. The others around him were already full. “Hi, everyone.”

They murmured greetings a bit awkwardly, before the small, blonde, second-year girl on his left asked, “Who was that?”

It wasn’t hard to tell who she meant. “That was my friend, Gabriel.”

She gawped at him in disbelief. “But he’s a Slytherin!”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Anyway, Laura, isn’t it? How about you read your card for us?”

Blushing, she picked up her name card and flipped it over. “Oh! Well, um… my name’s Laura Madley, I’m from Wimbourne, and my favourite food or sweet you can only get at Halloween is… um… ooh, I don’t know! Maybe pumpkin and cinnamon chocolate cauldrons?”

“That explains a lot, we need to keep Laura away from the sugar,” said the boy next to her, a fellow second-year called Kevin.

That got a fair bit of laughter from the others, while Laura blushed brighter and scowled at him, but he could see the corners of her mouth turning up, all the same. Evan glanced down the table to see how it was going elsewhere, and there was Michelle in the middle of her group, a wide smile on her face. She caught his eye and wiggled her fingers at him in a little wave.

“I think we all know what Evan’s favourite thing about Halloween is,” snickered Hannah Abbott from beside him. “Most other times, too!”

He just smiled. “Thank you for volunteering, Hannah, you can go next.”

“Do I have to?” She sighed, then picked up her card. “Hannah Abbott from London, and… really? Bats or spiders, and why? Bats, every time! They’re not all little scuttling legs, and they don’t leave cobwebs everywhere for you to walk through.”

They laughed at the disgusted expression on her face.

“Don’t you hate that, especially when you get it in your hair?” said Laura.

“Yes! Ugh, that is the _worst_! You never feel like you can get it all out.”

He suppressed a smile. _I reckon Becky would class that as bonding, or whatever it is we’re supposed to be doing_.

“Do I get to choose the next person? Because that ought to be you, Evan, you don’t get away that easily.”

“All right then. I’m Evan Fielding, I live in Much-Binding-in-the-Marsh, in the Cotswolds, and… and I’m probably going to have to kill my friend, Becky.”

Jasmin Singh, Ravi’s sister, leaned over to read his card, and burst out laughing. “’If your best friend kissed you, would you kiss her back? (For Merlin’s sake, say yes!)’. Go on, Evan, we’re all dying to hear the answer to that one.”

“That would be telling, and you should never kiss and tell,” he said, as calmly as he could. “Your turn, Jas, and you’d better hope Becky hasn’t put anything in yours about Seekers.”

She stuck out her tongue at him. “Jasmin Singh, I’m from Bradford, and has my brother always been such a colossal arse?” There was a roar of laughter, and she said “Yes, yes, he has,” over the top of it.

Ravi popped up out of his seat in indignation a bit further down the table. “But you love him anyway, right?” he called down to her.

“Ha! You should be so lucky!”

Evan leaned over and read her card. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what it says there, Jas,” he said, trying to smother his laughter.

She grinned at him impudently, and snatched her card away from him. “Prove it, Fielding!”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I know when to pick my battles.”

He took a moment to look around the Hall, and the Hufflepuff table was easily the loudest, a constant hubbub of happy voices and laughter. The Friar was drifting around the table and occasionally through it, stopping to join in where he could, a beaming smile on his face, and even Professor Sprout was looking on proudly from the staff table. In contrast, Umbridge watched them from under lowered brows, a pinched, disapproving look on her face. Evan snorted and put her out of his mind. _Sour old bat!_

Professor Dumbledore always knew when to make a speech and when to keep it short, and he didn’t disappoint. All too soon, it was time for Evan to make a damn fool of himself with a carving set again, but he found the collective good mood infectious, and this time the carving and serving went with a more cheerful swing. Even so, it was a relief to retreat to his seat and get down to a decent helping of roast chicken. And then on to dessert, the highlight of any Halloween feast. Puddings and pies and tarts, all spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg and ginger, with lashings of whipped cream and ice-cream to help it down…

Later on, they half-sat, half-lay in a collection of comfortable armchairs in the common room, trying not to fall asleep from a combination of full stomachs and the heat from the fire. Some of them were finding it harder than others. Becky was cast down on a sofa, her head thrown back and her eyes closed.

“Hey, Becky, it looks like your idea was a success, after all,” said Mike.

“Yeah, that was fun,” added Maxi, from her position sitting with her legs across his lap.

“Well, of course it was,” she said, not moving an inch. “Oh Merlin, I am eating salad for the rest of the year. Until Christmas dinner, I will subsist on lettuce leaves only, do you hear me?”

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Becky,” said Maxi, snickering at the sight. “Where do you _put_ it?”

“It was worth it,” she muttered faintly. “So, so worth it.”


	6. Gryffindor v Slytherin

The passing of Halloween meant that the first game of the Quidditch season was almost upon them, and excitement around the school rose to fever-pitch as Slytherin and Gryffindor prepared to do battle. A good start was vital to the season, and having a grudge match to kick things off only raised the stakes further. The tension came out in other ways, too, in confrontations in the corridors and jinxes and hexes around the castle, subtle and otherwise. The worst of it was aimed at the Quidditch players themselves, and the players on either side tended not to go anywhere without a sizeable escort. That still didn’t prevent Miles Bletchley landing some peculiar hair-growing charm on Alicia Spinnet in the library that sent her to the Hospital Wing. Professor Snape, of course, blamed Alicia for trying a Hair Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to any of the fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted otherwise.

The day finally arrived, achingly cold but at least dry after the torrential rain in the weeks leading up to it. The other girls were up and dressed before her, but Michelle was reluctant to leave her warm nest of quilt and blankets, especially when she could stay snug and finish another few chapters of her Cassiopeia Rigel novel. Eventually, she had to drag herself up to face the day, and she made sure to dress in layers and set out her warmest cloak, hat, and gloves before heading up to breakfast.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was a pearly, Arctic grey that almost seemed to breathe cold down onto them. It did nothing to quell the febrile atmosphere, however, with the Slytherins and Gryffindors glaring at each other and fingering their wands impatiently. The excitement at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables was much less antagonistic, but equally fervid for the start of the season proper that would show them what they had to face in the way of competition for the Quidditch Cup. It would also go a long way to determining where the House Cup ended up, and Michelle was a little sick of seeing Gryffindor red and gold at the end-of-year feast.

Michelle found her friends in their usual spot, with two empty seats on one side. She took one, and looked around in time to see Evan walk in, still dressed in his running gear and mopping at his streaming eyes and nose.

“Morning,” she said softly, as he flopped down beside her and reached for the porridge.

“Morning. Crikey, it’s brass monkeys out there, today!”

“Only you would be daft enough ter be running around in it voluntarily, mate,” Mike said, shaking his head.

“It wakes you up, that’s for sure,” Evan said, with a grin.

“Yeah, until ya realise which parts have frozen and dropped off on the way around.”

That got a rumble of laughter from the others, and a few suggestions from Tammy and Roger Stebbins about what he might be missing that made her blush.

The others had mostly finished eating already, so she bolted down some cereal and a cup of coffee and joined them for the walk back to the common room. Evan disappeared for a shower and a change of clothes, and she nipped in to her own dorm for a moment. She stuffed the hat and gloves she’d picked out earlier into the pockets of her cloak and draped that over her arm and headed back out to the common room. The others were already there, dressed warmly and lounging around, talking Quidditch. She’d already heard enough over-analysis, so she went over to say Hi to Chris who was sitting at a desk in the corner, a textbook and a pile of scrolls in front of him. In fact, he looked like he was set for the day.

“Aren’t you coming down to the game, Chris?”

He sighed, and ran a meaty hand through his hair. “Nah, I’ve really got to catch up on this essay for Potions. You’ve done yours, right?”

“Yeah, last night. D’you want to have a read?”

“No thanks, I’m OK for the theory, I just need to actually write it. Once it’s out of the way, maybe I’ll come down if the game’s still going.” He grinned, “Then again, maybe I’ll stay here next to the fire where it’s warm!”

Michelle laughed. “That sounds nice, actually. I’m sure I’ll think of you when I’m freezing myself solid down there, later!”

The morning’s heavy frost still hadn’t lifted when they set out from the castle for the walk down to the Quidditch stadium. As well as their warm clothes, they made sure to cast warming charms on their cloaks in an attempt to keep out the cold. Michelle fell in beside Evan, the grass crackling and hissing underneath their feet as they walked.

“I hope this doesn’t take too long, it’s perishing out here,” she complained half-heartedly, shoving her gloved hands deep into her pockets.

He smiled at her. “And coming on to snow tonight, according to the wireless. It should be a good game, although Slytherin have got new Beaters, and I don’t think Angelina’s all that confident about her new Keeper.” His lips twisted into a rueful grin, “And I apologise in advance.”

“What for?”

“Boring you rigid for the rest of the morning, I should think.”

She laughed. “I’m sure I’ll manage, I ought to be used to it by now, after all.”

At the base of the stadium’s Hufflepuff section, Evan spotted Rafa Cervantes, and called him over.

“Hey, Rafa - you want to sit with the rest of the team?”

The kid looked up at them hopefully. “You guys don’t mind?”

Evan just smiled easily, “No, of course not! You know everyone, right? Where’s the rest of your mates? Are you guys coming, too?”

There was a good hum around the place as they climbed to the top of the Hufflepuff stand. The majority of the Hufflepuff crowd wore something in red and gold. The thought of supporting Slytherin, who were being even more unbearable than usual so far that year, was impossible. The Ravenclaws, of course, were studiedly neutral in their stands, an unbroken sea of blue and bronze.

Their expanded gang formed a sort of huddle down in the first two rows. Evan sat on the fringe next to Mike, and Michelle took the seat next to him. Becky, bless her, took the seat next to her so that she’d have someone sensible to talk to for the next couple of hours - although that was only relative, because she was nearly as Quidditch-mad as the others - and Rafa and his friends sat in the row behind them. Oh well, that meant that she could indulge in some Evan-watching, one of her favourite pastimes. His face was so intense and _focused _when he watched Quidditch, quite different from his usual, thoughtful self…

She heard a snicker from beside her, and turned to see Becky grinning at her knowingly. Traitorously, her cheeks bloomed Gryffindor scarlet, albeit for very Hufflepuff reasons.

To her relief, the blast of Madam Hooch’s whistle saved her and grabbed everyone’s attention, and there was an almighty roar as the game got under way, and Malfoy and Potter zoomed away above the melee. Owen Summerby would be watching them, she knew, and there were hawks that watched the Beaters on both sides with less intensity than Mike and Maxi. Evan was watching the Slytherin chasers twist and turn and fight for the Quaffle, although perhaps not quite as intently as Lee Jordan was watching their Gryffindor counterparts.

"_And it's Johnson - Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me _-"

"_JORDAN_!" came the foghorn roar of Professor McGonagall, as predictable as the sunrise.

"_\- just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest,_” Lee protested mildly, before carrying on like he’d never been interrupted. Michelle and quite a few others had trouble getting their giggles under control. Lee loved to pine melodramatically for Angelina in the commentary, as he told everyone, purely because he’d never get away with it any other time and because she couldn’t kill him when she was on the pitch. _Well, that and Angie_ is_ gorgeous, I suppose_.

After a few minutes, she could hear Evan and Mike starting to exchange notes on their future opponents and dissect the play, much like the rest of the Quidditch team. Rafa leaned in from his seat in the row behind them to listen in, and she did, too.

“-weak down low to her left, still-”

“See that? Feints across his body, then the back-hand pass-”

“-not quick enough, change the angles and they can’t keep up-”

Meanwhile, the singing from the Slytherin section was getting louder and louder.

_"Weasley cannot save a thing, _

_He cannot block a single ring-”_

There was a sort of baffled silence amongst the Hufflepuffs as they picked up the words.

“Seriously? How old are they, five?” Michelle heard Susan Bones snort in disgust behind her.

_“He always lets the Quaffle in, _

_Weasley will make sure we win-”_

Evan and Mike exchanged a look that said they were entirely in agreement, and then went back to analysing the play, but the Slytherins only sang louder. Evan was explaining something to Rafa with some sort of complicated hand gestures when Cassius Warrington broke away for the Snakes and, despite Lee Jordan’s obvious anguish, fired the Quaffle past a faintly ludicrous-looking dive from Ron Weasley. She saw Mike and Evan exchange another look, this time tinged with some sympathy.

“Oh dear, now.”

“The kid’s lost it,” Evan agreed.

“Yer assuming he ever had it?”

“Look at his pedigree, and he wouldn’t be out there if he was totally hopeless.”

“Best he bucks himself up, then, or he’s in for a long afternoon.”

“It’s kinda like what I was telling you, a good part of the game is actually up in your head,” Evan said to Rafa. Rafa said nothing, but looked rather pale. Perhaps he could imagine himself out there, making his debut in front of a raucous, hostile crowd with all the pressure and expectation that entailed.

It quickly became apparent that Ron and the Gryffindors were in for a very long afternoon, indeed. Angelina and the Chasers were flying hard and fighting for every loose Quaffle, and the Weasley twins, white-faced with anger, were beating the opposing Beaters mercilessly, but they couldn’t help their Keeper’s disintegration under the relentless goading of the Slytherin crowd. The Slytherins were positively feeding on it, however, and soon added another goal, and then another, as Ron flailed ever more desperately and ineffectually.

“Poor Angelina,” muttered Evan, shaking his head. “From Oliver Wood, to this.”

“I know, but what can they do? Either the kid’s got it, or he hasn’t.”

“Call a time-out, then try to slap some confidence into him. Even then, I don’t know that it’d work.”

Mike shook his head, “There’s nowhere to hide out there, so he’d better hope his mate, Potter, bags the snitch for him.”

Slytherin added another goal, and Michelle could almost see the gangly figure of the youngest Weasley brother pulling in on himself, shrinking away from the unending torrents of abuse from the Slytherin stands. It was pitiful to watch, and despite Angelina Johnson finally opening Gryffindor’s account, she could only agree with Mike’s assessment.

Almost in synchronicity, the two Seekers abruptly turned in mid-search and plunged through the play, stretched out low across their brooms and reaching desperately for a little gold speck. The crowd’s roar took up a new focus and with it, a huge surge of volume, and suddenly it was the small, red-and-gold clad figure that pulled out, arm raised triumphantly. Harry Potter had done it yet again.

Potter was a strange sort of kid. Maybe he’d have to be, growing up without his parents and with a nation’s expectations on his young shoulders. Normally very closed-in and cautious, here he took the acclaim of the crowd with open and genuine delight on his face, and no trace of arrogance or smugness. He’d been accused of both plenty of times last year, and despite Cedric’s own protestations that Potter wasn’t really that bad, Michelle had found it hard to resist the ugly kernel of resentment at him for stealing Cedric’s well-deserved limelight.

Caught up in her thoughts, she nearly missed the dark blur that slammed into the kid’s back, sending him cartwheeling off the front of his broom. There was a sudden, collective ‘_Ooh_!’ from the crowd that dissolved into a babble of voices and angry jeers directed at the smug-looking Slytherin culprits.

“Did you see that?!”

“That’s got to hurt!”

“Right in the back!”

“-Crabbe, with that Bludger. Man, _ouch_!”

Angelina Johnson and the rest of the Gryffindor crew rushed to Potter’s side and helped him up.

“I think he’s OK,” said Tammy, craning her head to see. “He seems to be moving all right.”

“That was nasty,” agreed Maxi. “And oh, look, there’s that nasty wee scrote Malfoy over to flap his gums.”

“Huh. That’s all he can do,” said Mike. “C’mon, we might as well be getting back.”

No sooner had Michelle stood up to follow the rest of them back to the castle than the jeers of the crowd picked up a new, more energised tone.

“Ooh, hello, it’s getting a bit tasty down there,” Tammy said, now standing on tip-toe to peer down on the action. All Michelle could see was that the loose groups of Quidditch players had become more of a scrum.

“Man, the twins are really kicking off, I wonder what the little brat said this time?”

“Ah, ya probably don’t want to know,” said Maxi in disgust. “The old Slytherin adage.”

“If ya can’t win the game, win the fight. If there isn’t a fight - start one.” Mike quoted in agreement, hooking his arm through Maxi’s and giving it an affectionate squeeze as they filed for the stairs at the back of the stand.

“So, what do you reckon, then?” said Gwion, as they clattered their way down to the ground.

“If it wasn’t for Potter, I reckon we’re in with a decent chance against Gryffindor,” said Tammy. “You’ve got your work cut out for you there, Owen.”

“We’ll do ‘em for sure if they keep that Keeper, although the twins will make it a battle,” said Mike.

“What about the Snakes?” asked Michelle.

“That depends if they come for a game or a scrap. We’ll win the Quidditch, they haven’t got the Beaters and Montague’s too slow,” said Evan.

“We’ll win the scrap, too, have no fear there!”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Evan, chuckling at Maxi’s fierce expression. “For now, let’s get back inside before the snow starts, I’m freezing!”

* * * * *

Michelle and her friends ambled back to the common room, chatting with Leah, Roger, and Gwion from sixth-year. No one was in a hurry to dig out their homework, and although they knew they couldn’t put it off forever, putting it off at least until after lunch seemed entirely reasonable.

Shortly after noon, with Michelle’s mind very definitely on food, the door to the common room swung open, and Chris tumbled in, red-faced and panting. When he caught sight of them, he hurried over at a run. “Guys! Did you hear? About Quidditch?”

“What about it? I mean, we were just there?” said Mike. “You all right, Chris?”

“Yeah, Slytherin were their usual disgusting selves, but Gryffindor got there in the end. Their Keeper was shocking, though!” Gwion added.

“Yeah, but did you see the punch-up at the end?”

Mike snorted, shaking his head, “Yeah, that Malfoy really is a little turd, isn’t he? Dunno what he said, but it must have been bad, even for him. Madam Hooch nearly had kittens when she broke it up.”

“Yeah, well she turned them over to Professor McGonagall, and she really would have had kittens. Here’s the thing - they’ve been banned! Both of the twins and - get this - _Harry Potter_ as well! For life!”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“That’s insane, McGonagall would never ban half her own team, even if there was a bit of a tear-up!” Gwion said, aghast. “She’d be handing over the Quidditch Cup!”

“Yeah, where did ya hear that, Chris?” said Mike.

“Trish told me. Half of Gryffindor are suicidal, apparently, but it’s not McGonagall that’s done it, it’s bloody Umbridge!”

“_What?_”

“What business is it of hers? I mean, McGonagall’s Head of House, and Deputy Headmistress?” said Leah.

“She can’t possibly do that! It’s completely bonkers!” added Becky.

“You didn’t see her latest little missive when you came in, then? Trust me, you have to see it to believe it.”

They all looked at each other before Evan got to his feet. “I have a feeling we’re not going to like this.”

“Gee, what a surprise where that mad old bat is concerned!” Tammy snapped tartly.

They quickly made their way back to the Entrance Hall, where they found swirling clusters of students, all chattering animatedly despite the scowling figure of Argus Filch looming like a gargoyle in a corner, looking for anyone daring to traipse in with muddy feet or other unspeakable crimes. They had to pick their way through the crowd to reach the noticeboard by the doors to the Great Hall, where they could see the now-familiar, black-bordered poster.

“-but she can’t do that! She just can’t!” a boy in red-trimmed robes was saying, almost in tears.

His Ravenclaw friend patted him on the shoulder. “Looks like she can, old chum - have a look at that!”

** — BY ORDER OF —**

** THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS**

_ The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and _

_ removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments,_

_ sanctions and removals of privileges as may have been placed by other staff members._

_ The above is in accordance with _

_ ** Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five** _

_ Dolores Umbridge_

_ HIGH INQUISITOR_

_ 11 November, 1995_

Evan turned away in exasperation. “Oh, for the love of-”

“Ah, smashing,” Maxi said in disgust, “She just would, and all, wouldn’t she?”

Mike was more forthright. “Bastard!”

“So that’s it?” Tammy snarled. “Just like that, Fred and George are banned?”

“Potter, too,” Leah sighed. “Gee, I wonder what house our beloved High Inquisitor just-so-happened to have been in when she was at school?”

“Better tell Roger Davies and Carl Bradley to look out, then, or she’ll have them banned, and all.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Mike!”

“Well, there’s nothing much we can do about it right now, and seeing as we’re here, I suppose we might as well eat,” Evan pointed out. “There’s plenty of time to pick the bones out of this one later.”

Becky muttered a rude word and stomped angrily into the Great Hall. The others followed, but Tammy had spotted someone at the Gryffindor table, and veered off to see them. “Alright, Lee? Is it true, then?” Michelle heard her ask.

Lee Jordan looked up, his face stunned and rather sick-looking. “Yeah. All three of ‘em. For life, apparently.”

Tammy’s jaw jutted fearsomely, and it took a moment before she could reply. “Well. Tell ‘em their mates in Hufflepuff are right with them, yeah? As soon as that evil old cow is run off, they’ll be back, put money on it. And if they want any help with that, they know where to come,” she added in a much lower voice.

Lee summoned a half-smile. “Thanks, Tammy.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was no sign of the Gryffindor Quidditch team over lunch, but the latest Educational Decree was discussed and debated and argued over constantly. Even the game itself was taking a back seat to exactly how Umbridge’s latest brainwave might be applied and how far she could push her luck in undermining the other staff. As the same arguments got another airing back in the common room, Michelle slipped away to fetch her Transfiguration homework and start on an essay for Professor McGonagall. It seemed to her that it would mean precisely what Umbridge wanted it to mean at any one time, and there was little point trying to second-guess her. At least they were safe in their common room - for now.

An hour later, she and Tammy put the finishing touches to their essays and charmed the ink dry, and it was a relief to retreat to their dorm to put their things away. Michelle tucked it carefully into her bag, then spent a minute brushing her hair and re-doing her ponytail. Across the room, Tammy was clattering through her drawers with rather more force than necessary. “Everything all right, Tam?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah, fine,” Tammy said, slamming a drawer shut with a sour look on her face. After a moment, she let out a loud sigh and rubbed her eyes vigorously. “Sorry, I’m just a bit fed up, is all. For Merlin’s sake, let’s get out of here before I completely lose my mind!”

They made their way up into the castle, and Michelle realised they were heading for the disused classroom by Ravenclaw Tower. All of the Ravenclaw girls were there, playing cards or chess, and so were Alicia and Trish from Gryffindor. Their housemate Kenny was in the corner, reading a book, while huddled together with Jason Samuels and Roger Davies… were the Weasley twins. Their grins were rather fixed and even more manic than usual, but they fielded Tammy’s greeting easily enough.

“Hey guys. You all right?”

“We’ve been better,” George admitted.

“It’s been emotional,” added his brother. “Oh well. Loads of free time now to devote to our studies.”

“And we don’t mean schoolwork,” George said darkly.

“Indeed, my noble brother, some things transcend the bounds of the educational system whilst being an education in themselves!”

“I dunno if Lee-” Tammy began, but George cut across her with a smile.

“Yeah, he did.”

“And thanks,” added Fred. “We might just take you up on that, you know.”

“When the time is right, of course,” finished George.

“And you’ll want to be bloody careful about that, as I keep telling them,” Roger Davies said, with a hint of exasperation.

Tammy just grinned at him. “Having trouble keeping the peace, Roger?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not feeling especially peaceable myself, right now, but I want to keep anyone from getting slung out - especially in our N.E.W.T. year.”

Fred just shook his head, “And there you go again. N.E.W.T.s mean only as much as you let them-”

They left the boys to it, and Michelle ended up having a long chat with Alicia, Vinu, and Emma. It was so relaxing to talk about normal things for a change, about families and music and Witch Weekly and holiday plans, instead of the interminable deluge of lessons and homework. In fact, she was feeling rather cheerful when there came an annoyingly-fussy - and stomach-clenchingly-familiar - sound.

“Hem, hem.”

The silence flowed out across the room, dragging peoples’ attention away from what they were doing until they had all turned to look. Professor Umbridge, her tweed-clad arms crossed in front of her, scowled disapprovingly at them from the doorway. Michelle closed her eyes briefly and waited for something catastrophic from the Weasleys, but it was Roger Davies that took the lead.

“Is there a problem, Professor?”

Umbridge let his words fall into a short silence, as if to highlight them. “You know very well, Mr. Davies, that there is. You are of course all familiar with the recent Educational Decree concerning unauthorised clubs and other organisations - and yet, here you all are.”

“Yes, Professor. And what’s the problem?” Roger’s voice was somehow both pointed and scrupulously polite. It was quite a skill.

“The problem? An _unauthorised _society, in brazen contravention of the Decree!” Umbridge said, her voice sharpening with every word. “Do you think it is a joke, Mr. Davies? I can have every one of you expelled!”

Michelle’s stomach did a back-flip. _But, but… Seriously?! We aren’t even doing anything! We-_

“No it isn’t, Professor.”

_-just want to see our… wait, what?_

Umbridge’s saccharine tone took on a harder edge. “I'm sorry, _what _did you say to me? I can only assume you mean that you know it is no joke.”

“No, Professor. This is not a society, and it does not fall under the Decree you mention.”

“Really? _Really? _And yet, here you all are. Or are you going to claim that there is less than three of you here, in this room?”

“This is not a society, or a club, or anything else. Just friends.”

“I see. And of course, you meet here regularly?”

Michelle could almost see the fish hook in her words.

“No, Professor. If anyone feels like it, they drop by and see if anyone else is around.”

“You are bandying words with me, Mr. Davies. A gathering of this size and frequency is clearly a deliberate attempt to flout the decree.”

“If that’s the standard to be applied, then so is every meal time in the Great Hall - and that’s a damn sight more ‘organised’ and ‘regular’ than this is!”

“I’m warning you, Mr. Davies, you are treading a very fine line at the moment, and if you continue to speak to me in that tone, you will regret it!”

Displaying his usual death-wish, Fred Weasley cleared his throat noisily and pointedly, and Michelle looked over in time to see him don a ludicrously-oversized pair of half-moon reading glasses with a fake moustache hanging underneath them, and start leafing through a worn, hefty-looking book.

“’Regular’,” he announced loudly. “’Adjective. Arranged in or constituting a constant or definite pattern, especially with the same space between individual instances’. Shall I look up ‘Organised’, as well, Professor?”

The silence that followed was epic, and Michelle felt a wild urge to laugh.

“Do you really think you can cheek me, Mr. Weasley?” Umbridge asked in a deadly voice.

“Not at all, Professor, just bringing some welcome clarity to th-”

She gestured sharply with her wand, a downward, slashing motion, and Fred’s mouth vanished. His eyes popped wide in surprise, but Umbridge turned back to hiss at the rest of them.

“You were warned again and again. You should know by now I will not stand for troublemakers who think themselves above the rules, that this is all some sort of _game_-”

“’Troublemaker. Noun. A person who habitually causes difficulty or problems, especially by inciting others to defy those in authority.’”

Umbridge stopped dead and slowly swung around again. Looking supremely unruffled and somehow having undone Umbridge’s spell, Fred was continuing to read from his book. Michelle could only watch in a mixture of disbelief, admiration, and utter horror.

Fred tilted his head to look at them over the top of his glasses. “I had it bookmarked already,” he added helpfully.

Michelle’s stomach ached from holding in the hysterical laughter that threatened to burst out if she dared open her mouth. She heard a strangled snicker to her right, and nearly lost it, choking it off at the last microsecond into a sort of squeak.

“You, you…”

“Is there a problem, Dolores?”

Umbridge whipped around so fast she nearly fell over. Peering in from the door, his face set in polite enquiry, was the tall, distinguished figure of Professor Dumbledore.

“No, no problem, Professor Dumbledore.”

He smiled genially, “I’m glad to hear it. The transition into teaching must be quite an adjustment from the disciplined order of the Ministry, of course, but how wonderful it is to see our young witches and wizards develop. And of course, inter-house friendships are an important part of this - don’t you agree?”

“That does not override the Decrees that have been put into place for their safety, nor permit their wilful disobedience and disrespect-”

His smile faded. “On the contrary, we must encourage the young people in our care to develop challenging, enquiring minds for them to truly excel both academically and throughout their lives. Critical and independent thought is vital for innovation and growth. Of course, I would be happy to discuss this further with you in my office. In fact, I think I have some free time now, Professor Umbridge.”

“Really, there’s no need, I assure you-”

Umbridge floundered for a moment, but wilted under Dumbledore’s pointed stare. With a final glare at the silently-watching students, and rather like a reluctant schoolgirl herself, she slunk out into the corridor in defeat. Professor Dumbledore nodded graciously at them, and then they were gone. Someone spelled the door to shut behind them, and at the click of the latch there was a moment where they let out a collective breath in relief, and then they all started talking across each other.

Michelle let the loud buzz of voices wash over her and turned away from the others for a moment, trying to get the sick butterflies in her stomach under control. She jumped when a hand touched her arm, and she looked up to see Tammy peering at her in concern.

“All right, Michelle?”

She managed a smile, but only just. Tammy shrugged, and resumed her conversation with Emma Carroll. “Dumbledore’s awesome, isn’t he?” she said, making no attempt to hide the laughter that bubbled up as she said it.

Emma grinned back at her. “Yep. A few words, and he cut everything she was trying to pull on us off at the knees. Amazing!”

“I wonder if he saw what she did to Fred?”

“’Course he did!” Emma looked across the room to where the Weasley boys were holding forth. “Fred! Hey, Fred! That spell - how did you undo it?”

He shrugged. “It was just a simple switching spell. It’s not like I didn’t have a wand, so it only took a second to switch back.”

“Good job it wasn’t anything worse!” Emma said, before adding to Tammy, “Even so, using magic like that on a student? You bet your arse, he’s going to have words with her!”

Michelle left them to it, and instead found Vinu, Alicia, and Megan, who were sitting on desks to one side, watching the others. She gave them a little wave, and got small, rather tight, smiles in reply. Michelle found a perch on a desk of her own and took a deep breath. “What did you make of that, then?”

“Interesting. She’s doing it again,” Vinu said thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?”

“Pushing. Provoking. Seeing who reacts, and who has a guilty conscience. Seeing what words get her a bite, and when.”

“Unbelievable! She’s supposed to be a teacher, for heaven’s sake!” Megan snorted.

“And? She’s a bully, through and through. What’s worse is, I don’t think she can help herself. Just look at that last little episode - she hates Dumbledore, but he’s still the biggest dog in the street, so she caved in when he stepped in. She knows that’s a fight she won’t win, not face-to-face, anyway.”

“For now.”

Vinu nodded, “Yeah. And now she’ll be out to make up for it and put us all back in our places as soon as his back is turned.”

“Merlin, there’s a cheery thought,” said Michelle, with a shudder.

“Yeah, but what can we do about it?” Alicia chimed in. “It’s all very well Dumbledore taking an interest, but she’s got the ear of the Minister, and she can get more of those ridiculous Decrees passed any time she wants. She’s already given herself power over just about everything.”

Vinu let out an uncharacteristic snort, “What do you think? Stay the hell out of her way as much as possible, and keep our heads down when we can’t. If the Weasley boys want to get into a fight about it, well, good luck to them, because they’re going to need it.”

“So we just let her walk all over us, do we? Not bloody likely!” said Alicia firmly.

Vinu shrugged, “The nail that sticks up gets hammered down. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Privately, Michelle thought she had a very good point. Perhaps it was easy to say, but if they didn’t react to Umbridge’s provocations and kept as quiet as possible when she was around, she would soon move on to easier targets. _Especially _the ones looking to make a fight of it. _I just hope I can stick to that. I can do that. Can’t I?_

* * * * *

The school was still in shock the next day, so much so that the resolution of another mystery almost went unnoticed. Tammy was tending to one of the flower boxes in a desultory sort of manner and watching the snow settle across the grounds, when she let out a grunt of surprise.

“Guys! Come and see! Look who’s back!”

They crowded around her, and sure enough, out on the lawn a huge form was striding towards the Forbidden Forest. It could only be Hagrid, the kindly groundskeeper and their missing Professor of Care of Magical Creatures.

“Where the hell has he been?” demanded Mike.

“Ask him. Knowing Hagrid, he’ll probably tell you in about two minutes by accident,” snickered Ravi.

“He does know that school started, what, two months ago, doesn’t he?”

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” said Evan. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going out in that to play twenty questions!”

When they went up to breakfast the next morning, there was Hagrid, looking embarrassed but rather chuffed by the number of students that went up to him to shake his hand and say hello. Evan joined them, and the huge man seemed pleased to see him, but he doggedly avoided any mention of the huge bruise blackening one eye and most of one side of his face. “I’m fine, jes’ fine, a little bump, that’s all.”

“If that’s a little bump, I’d hate to see a big one,” Evan remarked to Michelle on the way out to Herbology.

Later, after class had finished for the day, he headed for the staff room and knocked on the unfamiliar door. He waited for a long moment, hoping like hell that he wouldn’t be faced with Professor Snape - or worse, Umbridge - but the door was opened by Professor Grubbly-Plank herself, her pipe unlit but still clenched between her teeth through force of habit. “Ah, Fielding,” she said, in her booming voice. “Wasn’t expecting a student. Everything all right?”

“Yes, Professor. Look, err… I see that Hagrid’s back and picking up his classes again, so I guess you’ll be finishing up soon?”

She nodded sharply, “That’s right. Only filling in for him, after all. Back to retirement for me. Still got a book to finish on magical aquatic predators.”

“I see. When do you leave?”

“Oh, tomorrow, maybe the day after. Need to get Hagrid up to speed on everything. Hand over my notes and whatnot.”

“Well, I just thought I should catch you and say thanks. I enjoyed your classes, and I appreciate your help with my project.”

She chewed on her pipe stem in embarrassment. “You’re quite welcome. You’re a good bunch. Pity it’s a small class, but there it is.” She let out a brief snort of amusement. “You’ve got those hippogriffs well used to you now. The porlocks can be tricky, but you’ve got a good head for it. Send me an owl if you have any questions.”

“Thanks, Professor, will do.”

“Good luck, Fielding. Let me know how it goes, if you like. Always pleased for a letter.”

As she had done a few years before, Professor Grubbly-Plank chose to leave Hogwarts as quietly as possible. She was at breakfast the following day, but after that she was simply gone. At his next Care of Magical Creatures class, it was difficult to drag Hagrid away from rhapsodising about thestrals for long enough to get an answer out of him.

“Oh, she left jes’ after lunch, I think. She’s never been one for goodbyes. Left me plenty o’ notes on you four, though, an’ all my other classes.

“Where were you, anyway, Professor?” Karen asked curiously.

“Oh, err… never you mind that,” he said, shifting his weight uncomfortably, like a giant schoolboy. “I been, an’ I’m back again, now. Now - thestrals. Err, everyone can see ‘em, right? ‘Cept you, Miss Alsop? Right, not to worry, I’ll… err, I’ll sort summat out. Anyway, come wi’ me an’ let’s see what you make of ‘em.”

He led them into the forest, a couple of dead stoats clutched loosely in one hand. Evan found himself at the rear of the group, along with a very disconcerted-looking Pucey.

“All right, Adrian?”

He got a grimace in reply, and a muttered, “I bloody hate thestrals.”

“They’re not that bad, they just look a bit weird.”

Pucey looked at him like he was mad. “Well, they give me the creeps,” he said in a scornful voice, turning his head away.

Evan shrugged, and walked on. _So much for being friendly_.

They reached a small glade at a fold in the ground, where a tiny trickle of a stream splashed down over a three- or four-foot drop to make a small, gravel-lined pool. Two large, dark shapes looked up at them from beside the pool, tilting their fleshless, almost insectoid, heads towards them. Hagrid casually threw the stoats down about ten feet apart, and after a moment’s hesitation and scenting at the wind, the thestrals separated and began to eat.

“Good girls, good,” Hagrid said soothingly. “Miss Carroll, you an’ Mr. Pucey can take Netta, here, and Mr. Fielding, you see if you can help Miss Alsop with Heike.”

Emma, true to her nature, went straight up to her thestral, while Pucey hung back, making no attempt to hide his disgust as it efficiently tore its stoat to pieces and gulped them down. Karen didn’t look very eager, either, but then again, all she could see was the effects on the poor stoat and the red smears on the snow. Evan smiled reassuringly at her, and beckoned her to follow.

“It’s all right, we’ll just wait until she’s finished,” he said in a quiet voice, trying to sound confident. “She’s on the other side of the stoat - you’ve seen pictures, right? At a guess, she’s about eighteen hands tall-”

“Nineteen and a half,” Hagrid interjected from behind them.

“-So she’s a big lass. We’ll just let her finish her lunch. There we go, now she’s watching us. Let’s go and say Hi.”

He took a few steps forward, and the thestral tilted its head for a second, then took a step herself. “She’s coming towards us now, she knows we’re friendly. About three feet, now, and she’s just scenting my hand. There we go.” He patted the hollow, bony cheek gently. “And now she’s going to… yeah, that’s it.” He watched Karen tense, squeezing her eyes shut for a second when she felt the thestral nose at her hand and the low snort as it scented at her shoulder, but she cautiously reached up a hand to pat it anyway. “You’ve got her, that’s her neck about a foot below her head. You can feel how slick her skin is. There is hair, but it’s very short and fine. Reach up a bit, and you’ll get her mane. It’s black, and about a foot long, but it’s hanging on the other side of her neck. The rest of her is largely equine, but if you run a hand down her shoulder, you’ll feel her wing. That’s it. It’s actually the first knuckle that your hand is on now, her wings are folded, of course. They’re a bit like a bat’s, there’s long bones that form the structure and a thin layer of skin that stretches between them to make the wing itself.”

“Come on, now, Mr. Pucey, don’t be shy!” he heard Hagrid say behind them. “There ain’t nothin’ ter be afraid of, they’re dead calm, these ‘uns.”

“All right, Karen?”

“It’s more than a little creepy when you can’t see them,” she said, although she straightened up and began to move around the thestral with more confidence, keeping one hand in contact at all times. Heike tolerated it with good grace, the white, pupil-less eye watching impassively.

“Cor, you’re doing right well, you two!” came Hagrid’s approving voice. “Now then, for the next couple o’ weeks, you’ll be doin’ the physical care of your thestral, an’ I’ll want an essay on the use of their tail hairs in wand-making an’ potions, an’ a summary of the research on their path-finding magic. Dougal Mockridge’s article in January’s _Magizoology Today _would be a good start, an’ you’ll find references from there. Four feet, I’m wantin’, by the end o’ the month.”

Evan heard a grunt of displeasure from Karen, and they shared a look that needed no interpretation. _More homework, wonderful_!

Heike nudged his arm with her head, then reached under one massive wing to mouth at something on her side. Evan ran a hand down her flank, and when she lifted her head away, over the spot on her side. There was a small lump that felt a little warmer than the surrounding skin, and he leaned closer.

“Professor, I think this one’s got a tick under her wing.”

“Huh. Really?” A huge hand appeared on the thestral’s side, just behind his, and Evan nearly jumped. Hagrid could move amazingly quietly for such a big man. “Feels like it, yeah. Tell you what, rest the tip o’ your wand on it, and use _phenothrinus_ with a gentle tap.”

He tried it, and at his tap, something popped out of the wound and fell to the mossy ground, wriggling, but before he could look closer, the thestral stomped a front hoof, putting an end to the parasite with a very horse-like snort.

“Ha! Now then, jes’ a second, I know I got something in here, somewhere. Eh, gather round, you two, you might as well see this, too.”

Hagrid rummaged around in the pockets of his enormous moleskin coat and eventually pulled out a small, pungent-smelling bottle and a wad of cotton. “Here you are, then, Mr. Fielding, you give her a clean up around that wound.”

Evan took a deep breath. “Right. No pressure then.” He took the bottle and stuck it in the pocket of his cloak, and pushed the rag down on top of it, then turned back to Heike. “It’s OK, girl, I just need to look at that again.” He ran a hand down her neck, and patted her shoulder before pushing gently on the knuckle of her wing. She shifted her weight, but didn’t seem inclined to move it. “Come on, let’s get that wing out of the way.” He pushed a bit more firmly, and she lifted the joint without spreading her wing. Evan stepped forward and took the weight of it on his shoulder to make it harder for her to change her mind. “All right, girl, this might hurt a little, easy now.” His hand found the raised lump again, and he palpated the flesh around it gently. The thestral’s skin twitched and shivered, but she didn’t move.

“Tell us what’s going on under there, Mr. Fielding,” Hagrid reminded him.

“I’m just checking the wound for any sign of infection. There’s no pus, and it looks like just clean blood, so I’ll give it a dab with your bottle. Steady, now, that’s a good girl,” he crooned to Heike, quickly reaching for the bottle. He tipped a generous measure onto the cloth and dabbed gently at the wound. Heike’s skin twitched again a few times, but she didn’t complain, and Evan finished up by tapping his wand on her side and whispering a healing charm. He was pleased to see the skin heal over with barely a mark, and he stepped out from under her wing and made sure to spend a minute scratching her neck and making a fuss of her.

Hagrid was beaming happily when Evan handed the bottle back to him. “It’s a good reminder that thestrals are much like any other equine, they get physical parasites from time to time, livin’ out like these ‘uns do. They’re happiest in the forest here, see, nice an’ dark and homely-like for ‘em. I saw you use yer wand there, at the end, what was it?”

“Just a healing spell. She tolerated the charm to remove the tick, so I thought she wouldn’t mind too much.”

As he spoke, Netta came over to Hagrid and started nosing around his pockets. He pushed her away gently and patted her shoulder. “’Zactly right. Try that on a hippogriff an’ they’d eat yer, but thestrals are pretty calm when it comes to minor magic. Dead smart, too. She was listenin’ in to us the whole time, you can be sure o’ that.”

“How much do they understand, Professor?” Emma asked.

“Ah, now there’s summat for your essays! They know enough to take you places, if you ask an’ they like you enough, and they’ll know more’n that, too, but jes’ how much is still argued over. Yer hippogriff’s a more direct creature an’ they act like they understand you better, but there’s plenty that say a thestral’s just as smart - they just ignore you most o’ the time! Any more questions?”

“Where’s the rest of them,” Pucey said at last. “There’s dozens of them that pull the carriages.” He still looked rather queasy, but he was a little less reluctant to get close to the thestrals.

Hagrid chuckled, “I wondered who’d notice that. Now, a big group of predators like that, what’ll they need?”

“Prey,” Pucey said shortly.

“An’ havin’ them all together in one spot for long periods’d clean a place out of things ter eat right quick. So, they got two options. One - they’re always on the move, which is true to a point. Or two, they spread out, only a few in one place at any one time, which is gen’rally what our thestrals do. They know we’ll be wantin’ them at certain times o’ year an’ they’ll usually turn up on their own, but asides from that, they’ll split up throughout the forest, usually in little family groups. Netta and Heike are sisters, actually, an’ cos they’re getting on a bit now, they tend ter stay close ter the castle. A fine pair o’ stately ladies, ain’t ya?” he added.

He took a few more questions before fishing a large pocket watch out of his coat and squinting at it in the fading light. “That’ll do us for the day, I think. Got ter get you back to the castle before the rain comes on, but we’ll be back out here again next lesson, so make sure you’re prepared.”

They said goodbye to their thestrals and followed Hagrid back to his hut. “I’ll have ter catch up on how yer doing with yer projects sometime, but that’s it for today. Er, before ya go, have you got a minute, Mr. Fielding?”

“Sure?”

Evan hung back while the others hurried across the lawn to the castle, and when they were safely out of earshot, Hagrid said, “Professor Grubbly-Plank was tellin’ me all about you an’ the work ye been doing with the hippogriffs. She was dead impressed, like, an’ she said you’re doin’ yer project on ‘em?”

“That’s right, hippogriffs and porlocks. The hippogriffs are OK, but it’s taking a while to get the porlocks to come around.”

“Ah, they’re like that, porlocks. Anyway, there’s lots to be done this term, an’ the hippogriffs aren’t too happy with me, right now. Would you be happy ter carry on with what you’re doing while I get meself settled in again, as it were? Got ter break ‘em in ter me again gentle-like, but they’re used ter you, now, an’ there shouldn’t be too much ter do on top of what you’ve bin doin’ already.”

“Er… sure, I guess so, if you let me know what you think needs doing.”

“Grand! Nothin’ much, like I said, an’ I’ll be out there betweentimes meself, but it’s one less thing ter worry about right now. Jes’ make sure you stick to the path an’ don’t go wand’rin’ into the Forbidden Forest proper. You’ll be all right goin’ ter the hippogriff paddocks, but you don’t want ter get too far afield from there, understand?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Smashin’! Well, I’ll let you go. Thanks again, Mr. Fielding.”

Evan trudged back up the path to the castle, his head full of thestrals and hippogriffs and exactly why Hagrid would need his help, for all that it would help him get a jump on his project, until he ran into the impatient figure of Mike in the Entrance Hall.

“Come on, Evan, get a move on! Quidditch practice, remember?”

He looked up, startled out of his thoughts. “Oh, bollocks! Hang on, I need to get changed, and I’ll be right out.”

With that, he jogged for the dorm. Magical Creatures would have to wait a bit longer.


	7. Hufflepuff v Ravenclaw

_Whomph!_

“Come on, Evan! Wakey-wakey!”

Reluctantly, he cracked a bleary eye open and pulled the unexpected pillow off his face. Catching sight of his attacker, he let out a groan and dropped it back over his face. It was levitated off him and started gently bouncing itself against his head, like some sort of demented, feather-filled Bludger.

“Oh, no, no, no, none of that, Mr. Fielding! Rise and shine, it’s another beautiful day out there!”

“Bugger off, Mike!” he groaned, slapping the pillow down and trapping it against the bed, where it struggled weakly against his grip. “Bugger a long way off and take a known poison, you noisy bastard!”

Mike grinned maniacally, bouncing around with his usual, irrepressible energy.

“It’s the weekend, when we could all be asleep!” grumbled Ravi from the next bed. “Pack it in, will ya?!”

The only sound coming from Chris’ bed in the corner was a steady, rumbling snore.

“Hey, you can sleep in as long as you like, Rav, it’s Evan that’s got a hot date with destiny.”

“Evan, then, get your arse out of bed and get this pillock away from me!”

With a grumble of frustration, he sat up and swung his legs out of bed, wincing as his feet hit the cold floor. “I need a leak,” he growled, glaring balefully at Mike. “Get out of here before I hang you upside down from the Astronomy Tower. I’ll see you in the common room.”

“Fair enough! Don’t take too long, though, or I might just have to come back and get ya!”

With that, he bounded out, whistling cheerfully.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Ravi groaned. “That much energy at this time of the day is positively revolting! Who, in the name of all that’s holy, decided to make him a prefect?”

Evan let out a short laugh. “It’s Maxi I feel sorry for. Can you _imagine _what their kids are going to be like?”

Ravi’s only answer was to roll over and haul his pillow down tightly around his ears.

After some rudimentary ablutions, he pulled on a tee-shirt and shorts and grabbed his trainers, heading out to the common room. Mike was buzzing around, tending to the many plants that dotted the room in an absent-minded sort of manner, stroking leaves and turning pots and generally stirring them up, while two third-year girls sitting on one of the sofas were watching him with a sort of baffled awe. He turned when he heard Evan drop into an armchair, but his face fell when he saw him pulling on his trainers.

“Um... aren’t ya forgetting something?”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “You mean, the eleventh round of the Hogwarts Gobstones tournament?”

“No, ya wazzock, Quidditch! Ravenclaw! _Today_!”

“And?”

Mike spread his arms in disbelief, “And you’re going for a run?”

“Just a short one. It wakes you up. And maybe you ought to try it, seeing as you’re bouncing around like a flea in a fart.”

“Not me, mate! I’m saving my energy for the game. I can’t wait!”

“I’d never have guessed,” Evan said drily. “The state you’re going to get yourself in by game-time!”

Mike grinned, “Tell me you’re not excited for it, too, ya big dafty!”

Evan just rolled his eyes, “Look, I’m going to make a start. Just leave Ravi alone, or you’re going to find yourself silenced and stuffed in a wardrobe again.”

* * * * *

He set off from the castle portico towards the Quidditch stadium. It was a bleak day with thick grey cloud and a heavy mist that had settled in the hollows and depressions of the grounds, but although the snow-covered grass was slippery the going was relatively flat. By the time he reached the stadium, he’d warmed up enough to drive the kinks out of his muscles, even if the clammy damp left a sharp chill on his skin. He began to run laps, focusing on getting into his rhythm, and soon there was just the liberating feeling of steady exertion, leaving his mind free to focus on other things - like his Transfiguration homework that was due on Monday.

He didn’t keep count of his laps, but the tolling of the clocktower bell told him he’d spent about half an hour out there. Assuming each lap was about half a mile, that made... oh, who cared? He slowed to a walk and headed back to the castle, feeling reinvigorated and fully alive, even if the cold still made his nose run a bit.

The castle was starting to come to life when he returned, the first students heading into the Great Hall for an early-bird breakfast. Hufflepuff common room was filling up with students, some dressed in weekend clothes, but most still in pyjamas and dressing gowns. Mike, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen, meaning he could have a quick shower and change in relative peace. He swung himself out of the tunnel from his dorm to see Michelle, Maxi, and Becky on one of the couches. Both Maxi and Becky were dressed warmly in jeans and jumpers, but Michelle was still wrapped up in her dressing gown, looking fuddle-headed and bleary-eyed.

“Morning, guys!”

He got relatively cheery greetings from Maxi and Becky, and a half-hearted wave from Michelle.

“You all right, Michelle?”

She blinked slowly, “Yeah, fine. I think. Maybe I didn’t sleep so well, or something.”

“You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I hope,” she added unconvincingly.

“I was just thinking about going down for breakfast, if you’re ready?” he said, looking at all three of them.

“Sure, sounds good,” said Becky. Both she and Maxi stood, the latter patting Michelle on the shoulder.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I suppose I should. Save me a spot,” she groaned, levering herself up and staggering off towards the girls’ dorms.

Evan watched her go, and Maxi caught the direction of his gaze.

“Ah, don’t worry about her, Evan. She’s just a bit dozy, still, is all.”

“If you say so. Tammy’s still asleep, is she?”

“Yeah, she’ll be down later,” said Becky. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Go on ahead if you’re hungry, I think Ravi’s down there already. I’ll just nip into the dorm and see if Chris is ready to go yet. He was just getting out of the shower when I came down.”

“Oh, okay,” said Becky, getting to her feet. “See you in a minute.”

“I’ll wait, I don’t mind,” said Maxi. “Maybe Michelle will be out by the time you’re back.”

Chris, as it turned out, was just pulling on a jumper, so they set off _en masse_ for the Great Hall. At the door to the Great Hall, they met Roger Davies coming down from Ravenclaw tower.

Chris stopped to let him go first. “Oh, hi Roger. After you.”

“Thanks Chris - morning, guys!”

“Morning, Roger!”

“All right, mate?” said Evan.

Roger smiled broadly, “Of course. It’s a lovely day for Quidditch, and it’s only going to get better once we beat you horrible lot. I only hope you’re all as obliging as Chris is!”

“Oh, ya reckon, do ya?” said Maxi, putting her hands on her hips indignantly.

Roger raised an eyebrow, his brown eyes twinkling merrily. “Well, it never hurts to think positively.”

Evan and Roger grinned at each other. “Good luck, Dandy!”

“You, too, Evan.”

“Yeah, you’re going ter need it. I’ll try not ter go for the face with those Bludgers,” Maxi said, a frighteningly-bloodthirsty look on her face. “There’s too many girls would never forgive me.”

Roger laughed. “You’re one _scary_ lady, Miss O’Flaherty, you know that?”

Her smile only widened. “Just keep that in mind later!”

Chuckling, the three of them found Ravi and Becky sitting together near the front, and quickly joined them. The Great Hall was only about a third full, with no-one in any particular hurry given that there were no classes to worry about. That made for a leisurely breakfast, and Evan had just filled his plate when Mike bounced in to sit next to Maxi and Michelle collapsed into the vacant seat next to him with a groan. She was dressed in jeans and a thick, roll-neck pullover, but that didn’t disguise her red-rimmed, congested-looking eyes.

“Good morning to you, too,” he said.

She groaned eloquently and let her head fall on his shoulder, her eyes closing.

“You look like you need to go back to bed,” Chris said, trying to stifle a chuckle. The others were all grinning at them, too.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Evan asked, reaching up to feel her forehead. It was clammy and she was looking rather pale under her usual, olive complexion.

“Yeah, I think so,” she muttered, not moving. “I’m just a bit _heshaw!_”

A wet mist sprayed across the side of his face, and Michelle jerked bolt upright in her seat.

“Oh, for the love of-!”

“_I’m sorry!”_ she wailed over his exclamation and the laughter up and down the table from their housemates. “Oh Evan, I’m so sorry, it just crept up on me!”

“Right before Quidditch, too! I should give ya detention for sabotage!” Maxi choked through her laughter.

“Traitor! How _could _ya?!” Mike added, leaning back from her and turning his head away, holding up his hands protectively between them.

“I said I was sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

She looked so mortified, he couldn’t hold it against her. Instead he sighed, shaking his head slowly as he mopped at his face with a napkin. “All right, all right, let’s just get breakfast over with,” he said loudly, trying to smooth things over. “Then I think I’d better take Typhoid Mary, here, to get a Pepper-Up Potion from the nurse.”

Michelle dropped her head into her hands with a moan. “I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, you said. Fried or scrambled?” Evan asked calmly, reaching for the eggs.

“Somebody pour that poor girl some orange juice, I think a dose of vitamin C is in order,” said Ravi, snickering.

Michelle sniffled and sneezed her way through breakfast, not even lifting her head when the others, taking pity on her, tried to make her smile. Evan was glad when he could push his plate away and hold out his hand. “Come on, let’s get you to the nurse.”

Shamefaced, she let him pull her to her feet and shuffled after him.

They found Madam Pomfrey in her office, a cup of tea in one hand and the _Daily Prophet _open in front of her. “Ah, what do we have here, then? The first of the season’s colds, is it, Miss Taylor?”

Evan wandered off so that they could have some privacy while the nurse briskly examined her patient, looking out of the tall, condensation-spotted windows over the grounds of Hogwarts. The weather was no more inviting than it had been earlier, but unless the heavens opened it shouldn’t be too bad for Quidditch - and perhaps it was lightening a little to the west?

He looked back over his shoulder when he heard the door of the nurse’s office open and saw Michelle emerge with the less-congested but rather startled look of someone who’d just had a Pepper-Up Potion.

“You should feel better for a while, but stay indoors today somewhere warm and get plenty of rest. Come back and see me before bed and I’ll give you another dose if you need it.”

Michelle gave him a wan smile and a little wave when she spotted him waiting. “Thanks, Madam Pomfrey.”

The nurse nodded. “If there’s anyone else down in Hufflepuff feeling headachy or sniffly, please tell them to come and see me rather than let it get worse. It’s easier for everyone when it’s nipped in the bud. Look after her, Mr. Fielding.”

Michelle was still looking rather glum as they headed back for the Grand Staircase.

“Feeling any better?”

She looked up and gave him a belated smile. “A bit. Thanks for, well...” She trailed off and shrugged.

“Looking after you? I’m under healer’s orders, you know!” When that failed to raise a smile from her, he let it go, and together they started down the stairs. “All right, so you don’t need looking after.”

“I don’t.” She had her eyes focused on each step as they descended, and didn’t raise her head. “But it’s still nice sometimes, you know?” she added softly.

He didn’t quite know what to make of that, so they walked in silence the rest of the way back to the common room.

Becky and Chris looked up from their chairs in the far corner from the fire when they entered, and he changed course to meet them, but Michelle just carried on for her dorm, her head down.

“Everything all right, Evan?” Chris asked quietly.

“Yeah, I think so. She’s a bit tired and stressed, I think.” He glanced at the clock on the wall and muttered a rude word. “Look, I need to get going, because I’m probably a bit late as it is. Look after her, yeah?”

“Will do, mate. Good luck!”

* * * * *

He took off his cloak and hung it inside his locker, then wriggled out of his jersey and untucked his shirt. Quidditch uniform for him meant padded undershorts that he’d cut off above the knee, long-johns for warmth, then tough, abrasion-resistant trousers. He wound long bandages down his forearms and across his palms to reinforce his wrists before pulling on a vest and a plain, long-sleeved tee-shirt. Then, being a Keeper, came the pads; a cuirasse to protect his upper body, and long, segmented arm- and leg-guards. After pulling on a helmet and his Keeper’s gloves, he lifted his yellow-and-black Quidditch robes over his head and shook them out. _Showtime_.

Or not, because Smith wanted to go over tactics - again. Mainly it was for the Chasers and the Beaters, so he and Owen Summerby took a seat at the back and tried to look interested. It had been years since Evan had felt any nerves before a game, although he was amused to see that Smith looked a bit green in the face as he ran through his diagrams and a moderately uninspiring speech. Summerby was also sweating heavily, eyes darting nervously between him and Smith’s charts at the front. Thankfully, Smith kept it relatively brief, and at the two-minute warning blast of Madam Hooch’s whistle they all shuffled out into the corridor, brooms in hand. Just ahead was the light of the tunnel to the pitch, and they could hear the anxious noise of the crowd filtering down from above.

The boys all shook hands with each other, while Maxi gave him a fierce grin and a crushing hug, before doing the same to the others. Tammy, of course, took it up a level.

“Ready to go, big fella?”

He grinned at her challenging look. “Sure thing, sweet cheeks!”

“Ooh, Evan!” she growled throatily, pouncing on him and pretending to snog his face off. The scene was somewhat ruined by the two of them sniggering uncontrollably.

“What the bloody hell are you two doing!” Smith exclaimed in disbelief.

“Is that a broom in yer pocket, Evan, or are ya just pleased to see her?” choked Maxi through her laughter.

“Stop that, for Merlin’s sake!” Smith insisted shrilly.

“Ignore him, darling, he’s just jealous,” Tammy purred, her hands clutching the back of his robes dramatically.

“Oh, for crying out loud!”

“Relax, Zach! They’re just winding ya up!” said Mike, chuckling heartily.

“Yeah, this is what it would really look like,” said Maxi, grabbing the front of Mike’s robes and pulling him into a sizzling kiss. The others cheered, and Evan and Tammy finally gave up the pretence.

“I don’t believe you lot!” Smith shrieked, waving his arms about furiously, “There’s a game on in about a minute, and you’re all practically _shagging_ each other!”

Gwion exchanged a look with Owen. “Well, kid, I guess that just leaves you and me...”

That finished Evan and Tammy off, and they slumped back against the wall, laughing hysterically. Mike and Maxi didn’t seem to notice.

“Get off, Cadwallader, you’re not my type!” Owen giggled, shoving his broom between them.

Gwion waggled his eyebrows. “Male?”

“Welsh!”

“I give up! I’m going to find Madam Hooch and forfeit the game. I’ll leave you bastards to it!”

“Calm down, Smith, just a bit of a laugh,” Tammy panted, while Maxi and Mike reluctantly untangled themselves. She turned back to Evan, pouting sorrowfully. “I’m sorry, babe, but I was thinking of Quidditch the whole time!”

“Tammy! How _could _you, you great big tart!” he grinned, “I feel so used!”

Outside, they could hear Lee Jordan’s magically-amplified voice echoing around the stadium. “_And here comes the Ravenclaw side, led out by captain Roger Davies - steady those pounding hearts, ladies - with Bradley and Chambers making up the Chasers, Samuels and Beckton Beating, Keeper Page, while Chang is the Ravenclaw Seeker._”

“If you’re all quite ready?” Smith snorted acidly.

As they mounted up, Tammy leaned over and gave Evan a quick kiss on the cheek. “There you are, a proper one to make up for it. For luck.”

He raised his eyebrows in faux-shock, “Why, Miss Applebee! People will talk!”

She laughed, and zoomed away after the others onto the pitch, the words, “You should be so lucky!” trailing in her wake. Chuckling, he followed her into the bleak, freezing drizzle.

“_And in their traditional yellow and black, the Hufflepuff team is captained by Smith, flanked by Applebee and Cadwallader, Beaters O’Flaherty and McManus, Fielding has the hoops, and making his debut, it’s Owen Summerby to Seek for the Badgers._”

He flew a few sharp little darts, loosening himself up, then settled in to the scoring zone to watch the brief formalities in the centre circle. Finally, the balls were released, it was Quaffle-up, and they were away.

Mike and Maxi went hard after the Bludgers, corralling both of them and pounding them hard at the Ravenclaw Chasers to break up the midfield stramash around the Quaffle. Smith pounced on the loose ball and fired it out to Tammy who, uncharacteristically, shelled it. Helen Chambers scooped up the loose ball and went long to Carl Bradley. Evan felt the familiar surge of excitement as Davies and Bradley exchanged passes, breaking upfield. Tammy and Gwion set off in pursuit, but their brooms were no match for the Ravenclaws’ new Cleansweeps. Roger Davies hit the scoring zone and arrowed the Quaffle hard for the left-hand hoop, the ball beating Evan’s dive and ricocheting through off the hoop itself.

“_And Davies scores early on! 10-0 Ravenclaw, and you could hear the knicker elastic pinging all over the stadium!_” Lee Jordan cheerfully announced.

“_JORDAN!”_ The spectators could also hear Professor McGonagall’s roar of outrage, this time without benefit of the microphone.

“_Sorry, Professor, just reporting the facts,_” Lee protested.

“_I’m warning you, Jordan-_”

Tuning out the Professor’s doomed attempts to regulate Lee’s commentary, Evan retrieved the Quaffle and launched it to Gwion to get things underway again.

“_And it’s Smith with the Quaffle, tearing upfield, now, with Applebee on his outside..._”

Two quick goals from Tammy and Gwion put them briefly in charge, but no matter that Maxi and Mike were dominating the Beating exchanges, the disjointed Chaser work meant that the Ravenclaws were slowly turning the screw. After three quarters of an hour, they were 40-70 down and hard on defence when Smith had a costly brain explosion.

“_Smith, now, turning into trouble in his own third, dummies to Cadwallader, but it’s stolen by Bradley!_”

Evan watched as Smith turned frantically, reaching out a hand to try to recover his error, grabbing blinding at Bradley and seizing only the tail-feathers of his broom. Madam Hooch’s whistle was inevitable, and met with howls of frustration from the Hufflepuff section of the stands.

“_That’s Blagging from Smith as he tries to recover, and that’ll be a penalty to Ravenclaw._”

Evan grumbled a few curses and flew back to take up position in front of the middle ring, trying to steady his breathing and wipe the now-persistent rain out of his eyes. Helen Chambers took the Quaffle from Bradley and set herself in the centre spot. Evan blew out a long breath, blocking out the crowd and trying to focus solely on his opponent. _Steady, now. Stay big, don’t go early, watch the eyes_.

Madam Hooch’s whistle sent Chambers tearing towards him, and he locked his eyes on her face, letting his broom settle a few inches but otherwise unmoving. She was drifting left, trying to open up the rings to shoot across him, but he moved across and forward only fractionally, continuously recalculating his reach and coverage. Jordan’s excited blathering was reaching fever-pitch as Chambers reached the edge of the scoring zone, then her arm whipped forward and the Quaffle sailed high to his right.

Instinctively, he kicked his broom hard in response, tensed muscles uncoiling to propel him up and across, keeping the tips of the fingers on his right hand curled around the handle of his broom while his left arm stretched, stretched... he felt the impact of the Quaffle on the tips of his fingers, sending a shiver down his arm, then wrapped his legs around his broom and heaved on his right hand to pull it back under himself, spinning away in a neat pirouette before charging after the loose Quaffle.

Chambers was hot on the Quaffle’s trail and, clawing for it herself, slammed into his side as his palm curled around the ball, her knee catching him painfully under the ribs and sending him careening wildly out of control for a second before he pulled himself out dangerously close to the ground and had to pull around sharply to avoid ramming into the wall of the stadium. Evan clutched the Quaffle convulsively to his body, trying to force his lungs back into action even as he hunched over and slowed to a stop, slumping to the ground.

Chambers pulled up sharply beside him and jumped off her broom. “Oh, bloody hell, Evan, I’m sorry! Are you all right?” she blurted, kneeling at his side and putting a hand on his shoulder.

He gasped wordlessly for a moment before nodding. Just breathing sent knives of agony shooting across his ribs.

“_-Completely accidental from Chambers, but that had to have hurt. Still, it’s nice to see proper sportsmanship after some of the disgusting displays last week. Fielding’s in serious pain there, and that’s a concern for the Badgers..._”

Madam Hooch’s broom came to a hover nearby. “Are you all right, Mr. Fielding? No foul, that’s Keeper’s ball when you’re ready. Do you need a time-out?”

“Yes! Merlin’s balls, of course he needs a time-out!” Tammy exclaimed, shoving her way to Evan’s side. “You OK, Evan?”

“Yeah,” he managed.

“Like hell you are, Fielding,” said Smith, “Time-out, please, Madam Hooch.”

Evan tried not to sulk at the sight of Madam Pomfrey marching towards him, wand and medical bag in hand. “Ribs, Mr. Fielding?”

He nodded, and her wand flared silver and orange. The jolt of magic abruptly stilled the worst of the sharp pain, leaving him with a deep, abiding ache.

“That’ll take care of the worst of it, although you ought to rest to let the intercostal muscles recover. I’ll take it as read that I’m wasting my breath, as usual?”

“I’ll be sure to give them a good rest after the game,” he said, with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Madam Pomfrey.”

She shook her head and walked off, muttering under her breath.

“Are you OK to continue, Evan?” asked Smith.

“Yeah, I’ll live.”

“Right. Now pick up your damn game, you lot! You’re too loose with the Quaffle and we can’t keep giving it away cheaply like that-”

“Stupid penalties aren’t helping, either,” Tammy fired back. “What the hell are you doing, going outside all the time? You’re isolating yourself! What did we cover in practice-”

“All right, that’s enough!” Evan snapped. “This is exactly why we’ve been under the cosh so far, everyone’s tense and more worried about blaming each other than working as a team! Cut the bollocks, look after the Quaffle, and trust Mike and Maxi to work those Bludgers!”

“Time, Hufflepuff!” came the shout from Madam Hooch.

“Come on, guys, Tammy’s right,” Evan said less forcefully, climbing back on his broom, “We should be flying rings around this lot, the way we were flying in practice, but that’s not going to happen if we keep leaping on each other’s backs. Mike, Maxi, keep Bradley jumping with those Bludgers, he’s the one who makes that team tick. Now, come on!”

Evan restarted play, but the act of throwing the Quaffle out to Gwion sent a searing stab of pain shooting across his chest, and the throw wobbled somewhat, making Gwion duck down to scoop it up. As play progressed upfield he spent some time flexing his arms and shoulders, trying to force them into doing his bidding. The Chasers’ play was still stiff and disjointed, though, and the Ravenclaws were scenting blood. Gwion ate a Bludger to the leg, the impact spinning him around but not slowing him down in his efforts to break up play in the least. Finally, Tammy struggled free to land a fine, solo goal, bringing them back to 50-70, but they were quickly driven back into their own half of the field. Maxi broke up one scoring chance by tagging Roger Davies with a well-aimed Bludger - avoiding the face, as she’d promised him earlier and was quick to remind him - but it was only a matter of time until Evan was called into action again.

“_Chambers, now, ducks Cadwallader, and a Bludger, too! She’s bearing down on goal, she sh- _reverse pass! Davies! Saved!_ What a save by Fielding! There may be a few cracks in the Great Wall of Hufflepuff after that earlier collision, but he’s still holding firm at the back._”

Best of all, the Quaffle stuck, so he was able to turn his save into a roll and heave the ball long to Smith, who streaked away to score on the second attempt after Grant Page blocked his first effort. All that was in vain, however, as Lee Jordan’s excited commentary revealed seconds after the restart.

“_Oh, what’s this? Chang has the snitch! Cho Chang has grabbed the snitch, and it’s all over! Ravenclaw wins, 220 - 60! I don’t think Summerby even saw it, and I didn’t see any sort of chase from the Ravenclaw Seeker, but she’s grabbed the gold and won it for Ravenclaw!_”

The Ravenclaw stands erupted into cheers, saluting their players who raced to celebrate together. Evan swore under his breath, letting his broom sink slowly earthwards as Mike and Maxi thumped the Bludgers into the Bludger traps. Shaking his head in resignation, he flew to the mouth of the tunnel, undoing the strap on his helmet and peeling it off while he steered with his knees. A thoroughly hacked-off Gwion was waiting for him.

“All right, Gwion?”

“Yeah, great,” he muttered sourly.

“How’s the leg?”

He shrugged. “I’ll know all about it tomorrow, I think, much the same as you will.”

The Hufflepuff team formed up along the tunnel to shake the Ravenclaw players’ hands and give the customary congratulations.

“Well played, Roger.”

“Some great saves, Evan,” said the Ravenclaw captain magnanimously, shaking his hand.

“Yeah, well, your Chasers certainly kept me pretty busy,” he said. “Nice catch, Cho.”

The pretty Seeker smiled fiercely. “It just popped up right in front of me, no idea why. That’s Quidditch, I suppose.”

Once the formalities were over with, it was a very quiet Hufflepuff team that trooped back into the changing rooms.

“Well, that sucked,” Tammy announced, hurling her gloves in the general direction of the girls’ changing room door.

“Everything we talked about before the game, everything we covered at practice, and we did none of it!” Smith snapped, his nostrils pinched white.

“Then where the hell was my right wing?” Gwion demanded angrily, rounding on him. “There’s no point playing a reverse Hawk’s Head when we’re attacking if there’s only two out of three in the right damn place!”

“Don’t give me that! And what the hell was all that nonsense before the damn game when we ought to be focusing-”

“Oh, bore off, Smith!” Tammy snarled, “He’s right, and you know it! Pretty pictures on paper are no bloody good if you aren’t going to do it when it matters! It was bloody obvious that-”

“Shut up, the lot of you!” Evan roared over the top of them. There was a sudden, surprised silence. “If you think you had a decent game today and didn’t get anything wrong out there, then you’re wrong - and that goes for me, too. We didn’t do the basics well enough, but tearing into each other right now is bloody pointless. We’ve got two more games this season, so let’s chalk this one up as a bad day at the office and start working on Gryffindor from the next practice. It’s a team game, boys and girls, and we win and lose as a team. I tell you what, if we want to win this year, then we’ve got to start acting like one.”

There was a brief silence before Maxi swore loudly and stomped off for the girls’ changing rooms. Tammy followed, leaving the boys to start pulling off their Quidditch robes and armour.

Evan limped back to his locker and unbuckled his pads, wincing at both the twinge from his abused chest and the sight of the red and black bruising across his hip and ribs. Madam Pomfrey may have healed the ribs themselves, but he would clearly have to go up to see her when he got back to the castle. He had a long, unsatisfactory shower, trying to warm up again after the cold and rain, before shaking out his broom and equipment and piling his laundry into the baskets for the house-elves. Outside, he found a girl waiting for him under the little overhanging porch by the door.

“Evan, are you sure you’re all right? I feel really bad about that, but I swear I didn’t mean it.”

He smiled. “No problem, Helen, it’s all part of the game. Are you all right? I guess you must have taken a pretty good whack, too?”

She lowered her eyes, smiling prettily. “I’ll be fine, just a bit of a limp. I think I’ll go and see Madam Pomfrey when I get back to the castle. Your ribs are _hard_, you know that?”

He laughed, “Not as hard as your knees! I think I’m heading that way, too, so if you’re ready, maybe we should both go?”

* * * * *

Michelle’s heart dropped as she watched Evan talking to Helen Chambers, the two huddled under the little porch over the exit from the changing rooms. She had waited for him for ages while the sleet-filled rain beaded and dripped off her cloak, and now she wondered if she should have just gone straight back to the castle, instead. He could talk to whoever he wanted, of course, but she couldn’t help noticing that Helen was a very good-looking girl, small and lithe, with an open, heart-shaped face under long, curly black hair. And a fellow Quidditch player, of course. And smart, too, even if she was a sixth-year. _Oh Merlin, could I be any more pathetic_?

Feeling like she was spying on them, she turned back towards the castle, seemingly just as Evan noticed her. “Michelle? Hey, wait up!”

Reluctantly, feeling more awkward than she could remember and painfully conscious of her reddened nose and watery eyes, she stopped and turned, letting them catch her up.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” he demanded anxiously, reaching up to place a gentle hand on her forehead, then taking her hand. She felt a familiar flutter in her stomach at his obvious concern for her. “You’re freezing! Madam Pomfrey told you to go back to bed for the day, don’t tell me you were out in all this to watch the game?”

She sniffled, dragging a wet sleeve across her face. “Well, of course I was. Hi, Helen, by the way.”

Evan let out a snort of exasperation, but Helen’s smile was genuine and friendly. “Hi, Michelle! Evan’s right, you look like you’re about to fall down. Come on, we’re going to the hospital wing. Why don’t you come with us and get a Pepper-Up Potion? I think I might need one myself, after all that!”

To her surprise, Helen took her side, not Evan’s, and linked an arm through hers. Together, the three of them set off for the castle, hunching into their cloaks against the weather, a strange procession of the diseased and the lame lightened by Helen’s cheerful conversation. _Oh, damn it, why does Helen have to be so _nice_? And why the hell am I thinking that’s a bad thing, for crying out loud? Evan’s got plenty of other female friends, and that doesn’t bother me. Why now, why her? She’s not even doing anything. I’m acting like a total idiot over nothing!_

They shook out their cloaks and wiped their feet in the portico of the Entrance Hall, but that wasn’t enough to avoid an evil scowl from the lurking Mr. Filch. Her head bowed, she followed Evan and Helen to the hospital wing, her head an exhausted whirl of self-disgust and plaintive confusion. _Maybe I should have just stayed in bed. Maybe I should stay there and hope everything sorts itself out by itself. Maybe, maybe, maybe..._

Madam Pomfrey’s brisk voice jolted her out of her miserable reverie. “Mr. Fielding. You took your time, I must say.”

She jerked her head up to realise they’d arrive in the hospital wing.

“Sorry about that, but we had to round up a straggler along the way. Could you check Michelle over, please?”

The nurse put a hand on Michelle’s forehead and _tsked _impatiently. “You didn’t listen to me, did you, you silly girl? Come along, let’s just pop into my office for a moment. I shan’t be long, you two,” she added to the others. Feeling very chastened, Michelle followed her without complaint.

She emerged a few minutes later, still steaming gently from the ears and feeling rather more enlivened.

“All right, who’s next?” the nurse asked, looking enquiringly at Evan and Helen.

“You first, I think, Helen.”

She grinned. “Ever the gentleman, Evan - or are you just scared of the big, bad nurse?”

He chuckled and waved her forward, “Petrified, like any right-minded Quidditch player that’s got themselves injured!”

Madam Pomfrey gave him a disapproving look and led Helen to a nearby bed, whisking the curtain around to give them privacy. In the sudden quiet that followed, almost certainly the product of a silencing spell, Evan touched Michelle’s elbow.

“How are you holding up, Michelle?”

“Fine.”

He raised an eyebrow at her sulky reply and let the silence make its own point.

“Sorry. I’m just... tired and grumpy and feeling miserable,” she said, dragging a hand through her damp hair.

He opened his mouth cautiously to reply, then thought better of it and let it go. Instead of being a relief, that made her squirm uncomfortably all the more. _Stop being so bloody tactful and understanding, damn it_!

“It’s OK,” he sighed at last. “Look, if you want to head back to the dorms, don’t feel like you have to wait around for me.”

All sorts of unkind thoughts bubbled up in her mind, but she summoned the will to push them away. “I can’t.”

He turned to look at her. “What? Why?”

She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Because I know you’d wait for me.”

His mouth opened a little in surprise. “Michelle, you’re sick,” he said eventually.

“And you’d leave, even if you were sick?”

He had no answer - probably because he knew it was true. _His eyes are _so _blue_.

The rattle of the curtain rings jolted them back to the present, and they both half-turned to see Helen walking towards them with a cheerful smile. “That’s me done - next victim, please!”

Evan shook his head, “Wow, there’s gratitude for you. You’re not helping, Helen.”

She winked at him, “I know - but it’s you she’ll take it out on, not me!”

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat pointedly, and Evan laughed. “OK, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

He walked over to the bed where the nurse was waiting, and this time, the curtain rings positively sizzled on their way around the rod.

That left the two girls alone with each other.

“How’re you doing, Michelle? Feeling any better?”

“A bit, thanks,” Michelle said awkwardly. Helen was nice enough not to notice.

“Well, cool. It’s a Hogsmeade weekend, next weekend - are you going? I’ve still got a load of homework stuff to sort out, but I’ve told myself I’m definitely having a day off, next weekend.”

“Yeah, me too. It’s always the way, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“I hope so. Anyway, I ought to head back up to Ravenclaw.”

“Yeah, you’ll be missing the party. Well played today, Helen, and have fun!”

“Thanks! Bye!”

Michelle watched her bounce out with a smile and a wave with decidedly mixed feelings.

* * * * *

Evan emerged from Madam Pomfrey’s care looking rather happier, although Michelle noticed that he tended to keep one arm close to his body and he moved a little more carefully than usual. The mood back in the common room was subdued, and gradually the Quidditch talk subsided and people turned to the usual weekend pastimes of chess, exploding snap, reading, writing letters home, and putting off homework for as long as humanly possible. Evan settled himself down near the fire with a novel, and although she and Chris slipped off to work on their Potions essays, she couldn’t help her eyes being drawn back to him from time to time - it certainly beat watching Maxi sitting across Mike’s lap and reading a magazine in between taking full advantage of her position to have a thorough smooching session.

They went up to the Great Hall for dinner as a group, and the mood had lightened considerably, even amongst the Quidditch players. Evan was still moving gingerly, though, and she thought he looked rather tired. _Then again, so am I_.

Just as she was contemplating asking him if he was all right, he quickly put his fork down, blinked rapidly a few times, and then sneezed violently, grabbing his ribs with a stifled groan. There was a moment of silence, and then what felt like all of Hufflepuff swung around to look at her.

Her stomach dropped into her shoes. _Oh. Oh, no!_

Evan fished out a handkerchief and wiped his hands, an exasperated look on his face, and she dropped her flaming face into her hands as everyone started to laugh.

“And you’ve just come from the hospital wing, too!”

“Madam Pomfrey’s going to get the wrong idea, at this rate.”

A hand rubbed her back sympathetically; Becky’s, by the size of it. She risked a glance sideways. It _was_ Becky, although there was no missing the grin on her face, and reluctantly, she let her pull her hands down.

“Come on, chin up, mate!”

Evan blew his nose, then looked up at her, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Ever get the feeling that it’s just not your day?”

“Oh, by Merlin, I am _so_ sorry!”

He just shrugged, and picked up his fork again. “Oh well. I think I should give Madam Pomfrey some time to get her dinner down her before disturbing her again.”

“You’d better go with him, Michelle. After all, turn about is fair play,” said Mike, with a grin. She simply scowled at him and concentrated on finishing her dinner. _You can sod off, Mike! Although… I suppose you’re right, in a way. I owe him for this morning, and it’s the least I can do_.

She sulked her way through the rest of the meal, ignoring everyone and everything that wasn’t Evan. Thankfully, he seemed to take it as just one of those things, and treated her like it was any other night. _Even if it is my fault_. He sneezed a few more times, and she noticed that same flinch that meant his ribs must have been hurting. One by one, their friends finished up and drifted away, sensing that she wasn’t in the mood to be teased, until it was just the two of them. Finally, Evan finished off a piece of cheesecake and gave her a look that needed no interpretation. Together, they pushed back from the table and headed for the hospital wing.

“Are you OK?” she asked in a low voice, as they reached the stairs. “I thought Madam Pomfrey took care of your ribs?”

“She did, but it’s the muscles around them more than anything. They’re fine for normal stuff, but when I sneeze, well, you know what it’s like. Everything sort of tenses. They don’t take kindly to that yet.”

“Can’t she just heal them, too?”

“I suppose she could, but it’s nothing that a good night’s sleep and taking it easy for a few days won’t fix, so why use the extra energy? It’d just make me tired, so I’d probably just sleep anyway. Plus, maybe she thought it’d slow another wooden-headed Quidditch player down for a few days.”

_That’d be a terrible attitude for a healer, but maybe she has a point about the sleep. And maybe the Quidditch, too. Oh, I don’t know. Why can’t today just be _over_?_

They found seats on the hard, wooden chairs next to Madam Pomfrey’s office and waited for her to come up from dinner. He stretched his legs out in front of himself with a sigh, and let his head tilt back, eyes closed. She felt the strongest urge to take his hand and, after a lot of hesitating, she did. One eye opened briefly and his head tilted to look at her, and she got a tired smile before it closed again. Swallowing hard, she squeezed his hand gently. _Poor Evan. He looks really wiped out_.

About twenty minutes later, they heard the sound of brisk feet in the corridor. Evan stirred and sat up, and reluctantly, she let go of his hand and stretched in her seat.

“Ah, both of you, this time, is it?” Madam Pomfrey said, casting an appraising eye over them. “Mr. Fielding first, I think.”

Evan heaved himself upright and followed the nurse docilely into her office. The door clicked closed behind them, leaving Michelle to her thoughts - and especially, the thought of his hand, warm in hers.


	8. Birth of a Hippogriff

The Pepper-Up Potion meant that by the following morning, their colds were easing, and a night’s rest had helped Evan’s aching ribs, too. Madam Pomfrey dosed him and Michelle again before class to be sure, but they were both feeling more-or-less able to face Monday morning’s Herbology class and the resumption of the school week.

Halfway through their Wednesday Charms class, a bedraggled-looking owl swooped in to the classroom and dropped a sopping-wet note in front of Professor Flitwick. “Mr. Fielding? I’ve a message from Professor Hagrid. Apparently you’re needed in the hippogriff paddock.”

“Really? Um… do you mind if I-”

“Go on, Mr. Fielding, this sounds like quite an opportunity. I dare say Miss Taylor will catch you up on anything you miss.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

He quickly began to gather up his books, but Michelle gently shooed him away.

“Go on, Evan, I’ll take care of those.”

“Thanks, Michelle, you’re a star.”

She gave him a small smile. “I wish I could come with you.”

“Maybe next time,” he said, with a glance over her shoulder to the window. “It looks bloody horrible out there.”

“You won’t melt, now get moving before you miss it.”

He jogged down to his dorm and wrapped up in warm clothing, adding warming and waterproofing charms to his cloak and shoving his dragon-hide gloves into a pocket. He contemplated making for the hippogriff paddock on foot, but decided to grab his broom from the Quidditch stadium and fly instead. Even with the walk to the stadium, it would be much faster.

The light rain was frigid where it lashed against his face, and his feet and trouser legs were soaked by the time he could mount up and set course for the hippogriff paddocks. The light faded quickly at this time of year anyway, and the thick layer of cloud deepened the afternoon gloom considerably. He landed in the clearing on the far side of the gorge, and tried to put himself in the right frame of mind. The hippogriffs would probably be anxious, so it was not the time to forget his manners. He set off through the dripping undergrowth, and soon emerged into the clearing. It was difficult to miss the enormous figure wearing an oilskin like a tent, rain dripping from a broad-brimmed hat, trying to calm a restless Hotspur.

“Yer just in time, lad!” Hagrid said cheerfully, “Ol’ Caroline won’t have me near her. ‘Spect its ‘cos I bin away so long, but you oughta be all right.”

He bowed to Hotspur and waited for the stallion’s acknowledgement before replying.

“I don’t think we’ve covered hippogriff midwifery yet, Professor!”

“Ah, like I tole yer, good hips on her and her egg’s well-placed. She’ll deliver this one easy-peasey, ‘less she gets herself all het-up an’ overexcited. That’s your job ter keep her calm.”

“Right. Okay. Dead easy, right?”

He trudged through the sodden grass to the loose-boxes, where a posse of nervy-looking hippogriffs clustered in front of one of the stalls. Evan tried to calm the anxious flutter in his stomach. Hippogriffs that were on edge could be unpredictable. Some of them turned to face him, feet stamping and tails flicking, and he stayed perfectly still for a moment until he saw them relax a little, then bowed deeply. There was a low, harsh call from the loose-box, and the hippogriffs reluctantly began to make a path for him.

Caroline was lying on her distended stomach, panting slowly, her feathers damp and her hindquarters glistening with sweat in the half-light, and her wings drooping from her sides to rest on the ground. He bowed again to her, then cautiously began to approach. She watched him with her head cocked to the side, and he stood his broom in a corner and tentatively reached out a hand for her to sniff, belatedly wishing he’d put his dragon-hide gloves on. There was a sudden flash of blue light that scorched his eyeballs, and the next thing he knew he was sliding on his back, ten feet from the stall with his head ringing like a bell. Winded, he gasped for breath and tried to work out what had happened while huge feet thundered towards him.

“Evan! You all right, lad?”

It was Hagrid, who slid a hand like a shovel under his back and sat him upright.

“I think so,” he wheezed, hoping that the world would stop spinning. “What the hell was that?”

“Porlock. Daft wee buggers! They’re guardians, see, an’ he prob’ly thinks Caroline’s in need of guardin’ while she has her egg.”

Hagrid took his arm and helped him back up onto his feet. Around them, the hippogriffs that had bolted when he got zapped by the porlock were starting to crowd around again. And speaking of the porlock…

“How do I let him know I’m not a threat?”

“Give ‘em the secret handshake, I ‘spect. Darned if I know, I’ve had a tickle off ‘em a time or two, meself.”

“Thanks,” Evan said drily. “In that case, how often can he do that?”

Hagrid grinned at him. “Have another go, and then I’ll tell yer if it’s more’n once!”

Evan had to smile at that, and turned back to the waiting hippogriff. He took a deep breath and tried to put his thoughts in order. Step one: Show respect. Do no magic.

He bowed to the hippogriff again, and she crooned softly at him, almost in apology. Feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, he started forward a second time. When he got within arm’s reach of her, she lashed out with a wing, sending something hiding in the straw tumbling. Hagrid’s booming laughter rang out in the night, making some of the circling hippogriffs startle, and then Evan’s hand was on Caroline’s cheek and he spoke to her in low, soothing tones, patting her neck and stroking the huge wing joint, watching her sides ripple with a forceful contraction.

“How’s she looking back there?” Hagrid called from outside.

“I don’t see the egg,” he said, after a moment, “But rather her than me. How long has she been like this?”

“A couple o’ hours. You can see she’s tried to make a nest, an’ tha’. If I’da bin here earlier, I’da given her summat more to work with.”

He thought for a moment, then disentangled himself from the hippogriff. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told her.

He stepped out into the rain again and filled a pail with water before hefting a hay bale out of the storage shed and staggering back to the stall. He put it down, fetched the water and put it in easy reach of her, then broke the twine on the bale and started spreading the hay around her. She watched for a moment and then dipped her beak into the pail to drink. When she’d drunk her fill, she turned and began arranging the hay to her satisfaction. For want of anything better to do, he tipped out the remaining water and sat on the upturned bucket. Seconds later, he had a large, avian head in his lap.

“Ah, I wish I ‘ad a camera,” Hagrid chuckled. “What a sight!”

He ran his hands through the feathers of her crest, and was rewarded with another low croon. “Are you all right out there, Professor? It’s still teeming down.”

“I’m fine, I’m used ter this sort o’ thing. I wouldn’ta lasted this many years as Keeper o’ Keys and Grounds if I let a bit o’ water put me off, now, would I?”

“How long do you think before she has the egg?”

“Oh, another hour or two, at a guess. Can’t be too exact about these things. Jes’ keep up what yer doing while I keep the expectant daddy, here, from interferin’. The hens’d run him off, o’course, but we can do without all the panic.”

And so, with nothing else to do, Evan sat on his upturned bucket and talked soothingly to the hippogriff about whatever came to mind. Quidditch, schoolwork, the frustrations of dealing with Professor Umbridge, his friends… and one friend in particular. He could tell her contractions were becoming more frequent, and she let out the occasional grunt or sigh. His voice was getting hoarse when she let out a low growl and dug her grounded wings into the dirt, her body rigid and straining.

“Hagrid? I think we’ve got lift-off in here!”

“Well, don’t drop it, lad!” Hagrid said, with a booming chuckle.

Evan stood and quickly backed away, giving her space - and keeping out of beak and talon range, as he didn’t feel like being shredded - but the rest of the hippogriffs were pressing closer, their own anxious vocalisations joining Caroline’s groans.

In five minutes it was over. One final, titanic heave, and the brown-speckled egg rolled free into the hay, leaving the hippogriff hen panting, her head lying flat on the floor. Evan was just patting her neck when there came an ear-splitting, bladder looseningly-terrifying screech that echoed from the castle and through the gorge.

“Ah, ol’ Hotspur’s tellin’ the world he’s a daddy,” said Hagrid, with satisfaction. “’Course that’ll have put all me chickens off lay, but it can’t be helped. What’s it looking like in there, Evan?”

“All right, I think. I don’t want to start poking around too much.”

“See? Told yer she’d be fine.”

As if she heard him, Caroline roused herself and hauled herself around on her taloned front legs, curling her body around the egg and then wrapping one huge, feathery wing around it and snuggling it in close. And that appeared to be that. Evan wondered if he ought to re-fill the bucket for her, but Caroline was soon asleep. He stood up and nearly bumped into another hen that had come up behind him, and the rest of the herd had arrayed themselves protectively around the stall. He took that as his cue to grab his broom and leave.

“All right, Evan?” said Hagrid, looming out of the near-total darkness. “She’s asleep, I’d wager?”

“Getting that way, yeah. The others are all standing guard, so I think she’ll be all right.”

“Yer did right well, all things considered. C’mon, let’s get back ter th’ castle. ‘Less yer feel like summat ter warm yer up first?”

They trudged their way back through the darkened forest, where Evan was forced to use wand-light to see his way, then over the gorge and along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid’s hut was surprisingly snug, and the big man waved him into a seat and tried to fend off Fang’s slobbery, overexcited attention while he hung up his oilskin and wrung out his hair and beard. Evan settled for a drying charm before taking a large chair near the fire.

“Cor, what rotten weather for it, eh?” Hagrid rummaged around until he found a kettle, which he filled and set by the fire. “Still, not summat yer see every day, is it? That’s the first egg from the herd here in what, three or four years, I think?”

“Do you ever have any trouble with them?” Evan asked. “Some of the books say they can have real trouble laying, sometimes.”

“Nah, these are all old-breed hippogriffs, see?” said Hagrid, stirring up the embers of the fire and lobbing a couple of new logs on top. “These days, the hippogriff fanciers got all sorts of modern nonsense they go for, makin’ ‘em look pretty but with no real thought for their health. Temperament, too, although some o’ that’ll be the way they’re kept, all cooped up, like. It ain’t natural for a hippogriff, that. The hens here can all bear an egg without too much trouble, they don’t have the narrow hips that are in fashion. It’ll break yer heart, tryin’ to help a hippogriff that can’t lay.”

“Especially with a porlock around, I imagine.”

Hagrid chuckled, and wandered over to the sink to pluck two large mugs out of a cupboard and shovel tea into his pot. “They mean well, the little so-and-so’s. They bin doin’ this for thousands o’ years, now. D’ye take milk?”

“Milk, no sugar, please.”

Hagrid gathered everything up and carried it back to his chair. “I dunno which came first, but yer porlock’ll defend a horse - or a hippogriff, or other equine - and they’ll defend the porlock. Dunno why, but that’s the way it’s always bin. Porlocks love mushrooms, y’see, ‘an mushies grow best with a good layer of horse dung.”

Hagrid talked enthusiastically about porlocks until the kettle began to whistle and he could pour the boiling water into the pot to brew. A minute later, and Evan had a scalding-hot cup of tea to clench in his clammy fingers and burn a welcome path to his stomach. Some of the students looked down on Hagrid, he knew, but there was no doubting his sincerity and expertise with animals, and given a receptive audience he could happily talk the hind leg off a hippogriff. In fact, the only thing that stopped him was an embarrassingly-loud growl of Evan’s stomach.

“Ah, I’m keepin’ us both from our dinner. Must be starvin’ after all that, eh?”

“I am, a bit,” said Evan. “Thanks very much for the tea, and for asking me out to see Caroline lay.”

Hagrid just beamed. “Glad ye could make it. They’re a bit off with me, still, so I needed someone they’d accept in case anything went wrong. I bin away too long, an’ I’m too new back again, if yer see what I mean.”

It was fully dark outside but the rain had stopped, so they hurried for the castle while the going was good. “Thanks again, Professor,” Evan said, shaking a few drips off his cloak in the entrance hall.

“An’ yer welcome, again. Come back tomorrow after class an’ I dare say yer’ll be in time for the hatching, too.”

The Great Hall was busy, but there was still a spot left on the Hufflepuff table between Ernie MacMillan and Michelle, so he took a seat there.

“Bloody hell, the wanderer returns!” said Ravi. “Are you a daddy yet?”

He had to grin. “In a manner of speaking. One egg safely delivered, one hippogriff recovering with her herd.”

He launched into an explanation of the afternoon’s events. He looked up at one point, and found that he had Ernie and all the fifth-years listening with unabashed interest, Hannah and Eloise even coming to stand where they could hear him better.

“When does it hatch?” Susan Bones and Becky asked together, before exchanging a smile.

“Tomorrow, probably. I’d be willing to bet Hagrid brings this up in your classes soon, Susan, he was dead chuffed!”

“I hope so. Ooh, I bet it’s cute when it’s hatched!” she gushed.

“And this from the girl that wouldn’t even go in the same paddock as a hippogriff in third year,” laughed Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“That’s different!” she said indignantly, and things quickly devolved into a lot of good-natured arguing and laughter amongst the Hufflepuffs, which meant that Evan could finally concentrate on eating his dinner. Feeling that he’d earned it, he had a slice of apple crumble to finish off with.

Finally, pleasantly stuffed, he joined the general exodus back towards the common room.

“D’you fancy a short walk?” Michelle asked from beside him.

“Not if it means going back outside, I’ve only just warmed up.”

“No, just around the castle.”

They followed a familiar route that meandered through the ground floor corridors before taking several flights of backroom stairs up to the third floor and then back towards the Great Stairs. They didn’t say much, just walked slowly, enjoying each other’s company and the peaceful contrast to the usual bustle and noise.

They stopped at the landing by the staircase and leaned on the railing, watching the staircases move. He looked over and saw Michelle watching him with a rather wistful smile.

“All right, Michelle?”

“Yeah.” She looked at him steadily for a long moment, her dark eyes serious. “It’s just that this is the first time I’ve seen you properly happy in a while.”

He looked at her, not quite sure what to say.

“I’ve missed it,” she said softly. She hooked her arm through his and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

He couldn’t resist a gentle smile, feeling a familiar flood of emotion for her welling up, and squeezed back.

* * * * *

Evan found it hard to concentrate the next day. Hagrid’s bluff reassurance that everything looked to be going well in Care of Magical Creatures only sharpened his desire to see the egg actually hatch, and he found himself impatiently clock-watching at every opportunity, much to the amusement of his friends. The hours, of course, seemed to crawl past.

“You’ve got a terrible case of ‘Expectant father’ syndrome today, mate,” Mike said, half in exasperation, helping him mop up the long scratch on his forearm when a Patagonian Viper-Toothed Liana nearly took advantage of his momentary inattention in Herbology. “Should we make ya go and boil some water or chop some wood, or some other sort of useless thing to occupy ya ‘til it’s hatched?”

“If we want bloody useless, there’s always Defence to look forward to,” he pointed out darkly.

“Too right, there. Still, try not ter get eaten before the end of class, yeah?”

The silent tedium of Defence would have been nigh-unbearable if it wasn’t for Kenny Towler complaining of a high fever and a green-faced Alicia Spinnet dry-heaving at the back of the class a few minutes in to provide a welcome distraction. Both were packed off to the hospital wing by Professor Umbridge under the care of Trish Stimpson. The Head Girl seemed unimpressed at her house-mates’ suffering, but took the chance to make a quick exit, all the same. A voice he didn’t quite catch muttered something about ‘Umbridge-itis’ as the door shut behind them, and there was some poorly-stifled snickers that got an ugly look from the little professor. Thankfully, she chose to ignore them, and they sunk back into the relentless boredom of Wilbert Slinkhard for the rest of the class.

The final instrument of torture for the day was Transfiguration, and he did manage a passable performance under the stern eye of Professor McGonagall, but the second it was over, he was on his feet and heading for the door.

“Don’t forget, Quidditch practice later,” Maxi reminded him as they reached the Grand Staircase.

“Tell Smith I can’t make it.”

“Tell him yourself, there he is, over there,” she said, pointing him out on an adjacent staircase.

Evan swore copiously under his breath, and angled across the landing to intercept him.

“Smith? Look, about Quidditch tonight. I’ve had something come up for Care of Magical Creatures, and I can’t miss it. I don’t know how long it’ll be, but I don’t think I can make it to practice.”

“What? Seriously, Fielding?!” Smith said incredulously. “And you think you can just blow off Quidditch whenever you feel like it, is that it? Because if it is, you’ve got another thought coming, I can tell you!”

_Ah, here we go. Come on, now, it’s not Smith’s fault he’s such a tit_. “I’m sorry, but this is going to be a big part of my project for Magical Creatures, and this sort of opportunity doesn’t come along all that often at Hogwarts.”

“If you’re not committed to the team, then perhaps I need to reconsider whether you deserve to be in it at all! I won’t have people slacking off whenever they feel like it, and that’s final!”

Evan took a deep breath. “Like I said, this opportunity hasn’t come up for years. Just this once, I need to skip a practice session.”

“Just this once, eh? And what happens next time?”

“Well, I don’t know, perhaps you could use one of the reserves we _still_ don’t have to cover for me?” he replied, trying to keep the sarcasm level down.

Smith coloured. “Don’t start that again!”

“Well, why not? We’ve got to have some sort of a Plan B if someone’s injured or ill, or they can’t make it.”

“I am seriously starting to question your attitude-”

“Oh, bog off, Smith!” Maxi sighed dismissively. “Let him go, for Merlin’s sake, and stop bleating on about it like it’s the end of the world. I’ll go and tell that kid, Rafa, to come along and bring his broom.”

“That’s not the point and you know it, O’Flaherty…”

While Smith started in on Maxi, Evan took the chance to trot down to the Hufflepuff dorms and grab his cloak and a warm hat. In a way, he didn’t blame Smith for being unimpressed, but the way he went on about it, like he hadn’t done _exactly the same thing_ two weeks before when he was late with a Potions assignment…

He jogged steadily for the Quidditch stadium to liberate his broom, and then flew to Hagrid’s hut. The big man didn’t answer, although Fang barked loudly at his knock, so instead he flew on for the clearing on the far side of the gorge. The rain was beating steadily down, and he could feel the cold creeping its way through him already on the damp-laden air despite the waterproofing charms on his cloak.

Hagrid was waiting at the edge of the forest, peering out over the hippogriff paddocks. The hippogriffs themselves all appeared to be clustered around the loose-boxes, and even at such a distance he could see their agitation in the movement of the shadows cast by the lamps that had switched themselves on in the loose-boxes as the dusk set in.

“Ah, Fielding, ye made it. Judgin’ by th’ excitement over there, I reckon you’re jes’ in time. I’ll stay over here, outta the way, for now, but you go on ahead.”

He gulped, watching Fleetwing toss her head and nip at Hotspur, an unusual outbreak of insubordination. “Are you sure it’ll be all right?”

“Oh, aye, they like yer, they do,” Hagrid said blithely. “Think you’re one o’ the herd, I reckon.”

“Right. Right. Any instructions?”

“Nah, you’ll be right. The chick will break its way out in its own time, jes’ as long as the other hens keep back and let it happen natural-like. If ye get one try to step in, there’s usually a fight, an’ then it can get a bit wild. The real danger is that one of ‘em’ll step on the egg by accident, but these ‘uns are relatively calm - which is another reason I’m keeping well away over here. All I’ll do right now is rile them up. You go on, lad, you’ll be fine.”

Evan went to take a step forward, and hesitated. “What about the porlock?”

Hagrid grinned, “I’d say yer about to find out if _he_ thinks you’re one o’ the herd now, an’ all!”

With that less-than-reassuring pronouncement ringing in his ears, Evan set off for the loose-boxes, fingering the small handful of mushrooms in his cloak pocket that he’d retrieved from the kitchens the night before.

He slowed his pace as he got closer, giving himself time to watch the dynamics of the herd closely. The older hens were clustered tightly around the stall that Caroline was in, and the younger hens and the stallions, lower in social rank, formed a loose outer ring, while Hotspur paced behind the group, his tail lashing. Evan stopped a dozen yards behind the group and waited for Hotspur to acknowledge him. It was several laps before the big stallion deigned to notice him, and although he bowed and held eye contact, it was a breathless moment that seemed like an eternity before Hotspur tossed his head irritably and bobbed briefly in return, whickering in agitation. Evan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and edged closer.

The hens were reluctant to move, and he had to squeeze in between them until he could see Caroline, who lay on her belly, wing curled protectively around the large, speckled egg. All her attention was focused on the egg, and rather than disturb her, he retreated into a corner of the loose-box where he could sit with his back against the rough boards and observe, scribbling occasional notes into a notepad and sketching the scene. The hippogriffs paid him little attention, their eyes fixed eagerly on Caroline and her egg, and their excitement was betrayed by the shifting and stamping hooves, the flick of tails and the low, grunting coughs. A glint in the straw opposite him caught his eye. He watched patiently, and gradually realised that it was a pair of eyes, watching intently. And there, a few feet away, another one. Porlocks. All waiting to get a glimpse of the new arrival. Trying not to catch the hippogriffs’ attention, he gently lobbed the mushrooms into the straw. The eyes immediately vanished, but seconds later, he could see the straw shifting and settling, and smiled. The peace offering seemed to be well-received.

Time passed slowly. Evan was really starting to regret not having a cushioning charm of some sort underneath himself, and the cold was flowing up from the ground and settling into his lower back. It wasn’t the time to start waving a wand around, however, not in a stall full of anxious hippogriffs. He’d just have to tough it out. With his mind on his physical discomforts, he almost missed the first _tic_ from within the egg. The hippogriffs crowded forward eagerly, only for Caroline to let out a warning nicker that made them back up. Instead, she started to fuss at the straw around the egg with her beak and one talon, crooning low, soothing noises. Another noise, and this time, Evan saw a small hole appear in the top of the egg. A small, whitish spot hovered just behind the opening, moving fitfully. It seemed to rest for a minute, and then another, stronger, movement made the egg rock a little, and the crack widened. Caroline wrapped her wing around the egg more tightly and bent her head close, crooning encouragement to her chick, and Evan lost sight of it but he didn’t dare move. Instead, he found himself listening intently for every creak and crack, and had to remind himself to keep taking notes.

Frustratingly, he saw little over the next few minutes, until a little, dark-grey wing flopped out briefly from underneath Caroline’s, and then, with a fair bit of wriggling, a little head covered in damp, fluffy down peeked out from under her wing alongside her shoulder. Despite the excited nickering of the watching hens, they parted to let Hotspur come forward, and he bent down to sniff the little chick and rub beaks with it, snorting and whuffling to exchange scents. The dominant stallion was followed by the eldest hen, then the others, presumably in order of social standing. It was quite heart-warming to watch each member of the herd exchanging their own greetings and welcome to the newcomer.

The hippogriffs were starting to disperse and he was wondering what his next move ought to be when he heard a quiet rustle, and a little figure covered in shaggy hair stepped cautiously out of the straw opposite him. He froze, barely daring to breathe. The porlock - he was pretty sure it was Nigel - was watching him intently, its muscles tensed like coiled springs, and warily it took a step to the side, then another, not taking its eyes off him. Slowly, it circled around the far side of Caroline until it stood right in front of her. Caroline dipped her head down and, to Evan’s shock, the big, razor-sharp beak nipped at the chick’s shoulder.

There was a brief, pain-filled squeak, and the porlock quickly darted forward and placed one of its hands over the small wound. The porlock’s eyes closed briefly, and a soft, blue light glowed under its palm for a moment. Evan watched, open-mouthed, until the porlock stepped back. The mark on the chick was healed. The porlock carefully drew two of its blood-covered fingers down its forehead and over its snout, over its throat, all the way down to its chest. When its fingers reached the centre of its chest, the head bobbed forward, almost a bow, and then it stepped back.

“Evan? How’s it going in there?”

Hagrid’s fog-horn voice, no matter that it was rather distant, sent the porlock diving for the cover of the straw in a flash, and made him jump. He had almost forgotten that Hagrid was still out there.

He licked his lips and tried to project his voice without shouting. The last thing he wanted to do was to startle the hippogriffs. “Well, it’s hatched all right. Where are you?”

“I bin talking to Hotspur. Reckon he’s happy enough now. What d’ye have, a boy or a girl?”

“I can’t really tell at the moment, it’s mostly under Caroline’s wing and I don’t want to push my luck with her.”

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. Are you about finished in there?”

“I think so, I should leave these two to get to know each other.”

He stood slowly, feeling the knots in his cold muscles unkink. Caroline had turned her neck to watch him through unblinking, orange eyes, and feeling like he ought to show his manners, he bowed. The hippogriff snorted and bobbed her head, somehow managing to give him a look that clearly meant, ‘Stop being an idiot’. He made sure to keep close to the wall and then circle so that he wasn’t approaching from the same side as the chick, but she pushed her beak into his hands, and leaned into his scratches just like normal while he told her what a lovely chick she had - the words were immaterial, probably, but few hippogriffs took offence at being complimented!

He heard a rustle and a thump, and the chick wriggled out from under Caroline’s wing and levered itself up onto very wobbly-looking legs. The wings were partially-fledged already, the feathers damp and still drying from being inside the egg, but the chick’s head and neck were covered in puffy, pale-grey down. Clearly, coordinating the front and rear sets of legs was a challenge, but it managed an uncertain step towards him, then another. He had half an eye on Caroline, braced to step back as fast as possible if she looked like getting protective, but she simply watched with a maternal air while the chick tilted its head this way and that to examine him from various angles, and then sniffed him warily.

“Well, hello there, and welcome to Hogwarts. And… you’re a colt, aren’t you? Well, good to know. I guess I’m one of your mother’s servants, and I- hey, stop that!”

The chick had grabbed the edge of his cloak in its beak and was tugging on it. It took him a few moments to get it free, and when he did, the chick just stared at him curiously and took another step closer without the slightest sign of fear. This time, Evan backed off, and seeing this, the chick took an erratic half-circle and blundered back to his mother, who fussed over settling him into the straw and pulling him close under her wing again.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow, with any luck,” he told them.

He needed a few deep breaths after stepping out into the persistent rain. There was no point worrying about getting wet, and he was long past the point of caring about that, but he wanted a breather to get everything sorted out in his head. Windrush came up and butted his shoulder, making a welcome distraction, and Evan made a fuss of him for a few minutes until the hippogriff wandered off to find shelter.

Hagrid was waiting silently at the edge of the forest, and greeted him with a nod, but despite the broad grin on his face he said nothing as they set off through the trees. They had stepped out of the forest and just reached the Hogwarts lawn when the professor’s voice caught him by surprise. “Colt or filly?”

“Hmm? Oh, a colt.”

Hagrid nodded. “Stormswift, then, I’ll write it up tomorrow. Good name for ‘im, eh? That was one of his great-grandsires, too, I think. Anyway, it’s really summat ta see, ain’t it?”

They stopped beside Hagrid’s hut, and Evan puffed out his cheeks and shook his head. “Just a bit. And I was right in there, with them. Professor, about the porlock.”

He hesitated, trying to decide how to word it, but Hagrid turned his head and looked at him intently in the darkness.

“Cor, you saw it, didn’t you? The porlock an’ the colt?” he breathed.

“Caroline nipped him, and the porlock rushed in and sort of healed it. And then…”

“The Bond. The Pledge, some call it. Only seen it once, meself, although I heard about it plenty from ol’ Kettleburn, he was always talkin’ about it. There’s magic in there, see, blood and herd and home. I reckon it gives the porlock power ter defend the ones it’s bonded to. They’ve never quite worked out why some hippogriffs’ll do it an’ others won’t. Thestrals don’t, as a rule, although there’s a few of ‘em as will, an’ thestrals bein’ thestrals, maybe they’re just a bit more scattered and secretive, like. Either way, it’s a rare old treat that yer got t’see it.”

“I’ve got plenty to write up for my project, that’s for sure.”

Hagrid chuckled, “Jes’ a bit. Anyway, thanks for yer help again tonight. D’ye fancy a spot o’ tea?”

“Thanks, Professor, but I’m absolutely starving.”

As he spoke, he heard what sounded like a distant crash and rumble of thunder, and Hagrid turned his head to stare out over the Forbidden Forest.

The moment stretched out until Evan prompted him. “Professor?”

“Eh? Ah, sorry, lad! Best ye get on in for yer dinner, eh?”

The abrupt change in tone was a bit puzzling, but Evan wished him a good night and squelched his way back to the castle. He took a few moments in the Entrance Hall to charm himself dry and get the mud off his shoes, and then slipped through into the Great Hall. Dinner was well underway, and the wonderfully-enticing smells got an enthusiastic growl of encouragement from his stomach. He found a spot at the Hufflepuff table about halfway along. There was no sign of Michelle, but he took the seat next to Tammy and across from Mike, Maxi, Gwion, and Rafa.

“All right, everyone? How was practice?”

“It was OK,” said Mike, gesturing at Rafa with a forkful of shepherd’s pie. “Rafa did pretty well once he’d got over a few nerves.”

“Maybe I should be worried!”

That got a laugh from the third-year. “Ha! Maybe not yet, anyway. But it was great to get a taste of it, you know.”

“Pass the chicken pie, please, Gwion? Thanks. I don’t know why Smith’s so bloody resistant to the idea.”

“Because he hasn’t got the stature or the balls to deal with a bigger group,” Maxi snorted. “Although let’s be honest, it’s not like he’s got much idea with just us.”

Evan paused in dishing up a big chunk of pie, then dumped it on his plate and reached for the peas. “Then he’s going to have to learn or grow some, or next year’s going to be tough.”

“Well, this is why _you_ should be Captain.”

“Maxi, don’t start that again,” groaned Gwion. “Haven’t we had enough for one night?”

“Well, he should! And we all bloody know it, too!”

Thankfully, they were interrupted by Becky’s arrival before Maxi could wind up to a full-on rant, and she took a seat next to him.

“Hi, Becky!”

“Hi, everyone!”

“Where’s Michelle? Still in the library?” Tammy asked.

“Yeah, I think she’s working on her Potions homework with Chris.”

“Fair enough. How did you and Megs get on with Ancient Runes?”

Evan tuned them out and concentrated on eating. The long walk and especially the cold had left him ravenous, but he was less than halfway through his meal before he realised that Becky was staring pointedly at him. Someone was behind him, too - Hannah and Susan, and Leah was on his other side, and Roger Stebbins, and the Patil twins, and Lisa Turpin and Sue Li…

“Um… hi?”

“Evan?” said Becky.

He looked around the growing group. “Yes?”

“Chick report,” she demanded firmly.

Mike smirked. “Ya might need ter be more specific than that, it looks ter me like our man’s _surrounded_ by hot chicks. _Ow! _Jaysus, woman!” He glared at Tammy, then turned to Maxi, rubbing his ear, “Are ya going to let her get away with that?”

“Surely not, me darlin’" said Maxi, before smacking him on the arm herself, to quite a bit of laughter.

“_Ow!_”

“All right, domestic violence aside - and you really shouldn’t do that, Maxi - can I at least finish my dinner first?”

He was subjected to a mass pout from his audience, even the guys, and sighed and put his fork down. “All right, what do you want to know?”

“Duh, everything! You saw it hatch, didn’t you? What does it look like?

‘A very small hippogriff’ did not seem to cut it as an acceptable answer, so he cast a warming spell on his plate and gave them his full attention.

“Yes, he’s a he. He looks like he’s nearly all legs at the moment, although he doesn’t quite have control of them yet. His head is more covered in down than feathers, so he’s sort of grey and fluffy. His wings are partly fledged, though, and I think they’ll have dark bands across them…”

It was quite a while before he satisfied their collective curiosity. None of them mentioned porlocks, so he kept the extraordinary scene between the little guardians and the new chick to himself. It felt right, too, like he had witnessed a private moment that shouldn’t be widely shared. He pondered that while he finally finished his dinner.

Back in the common room, he couldn’t quite bring himself to focus on his Transfiguration homework, and instead found himself idly chatting Quidditch with Rafa, Owen, and Wayne Hopkins. Michelle appeared almost at curfew, looking tired and frazzled with wisps of her hair escaping a messy bun, and plunged back into work, consulting several books at once and scribbling feverishly at a long parchment. He felt guilty about slacking off while she was working so hard - but still not guilty enough to drag out his Transfig. homework. _I’ll suffer for that tomorrow_.

Some time past ten o’clock, movement caught his eye, and he saw Michelle throw down her quill and massage her eyes before stretching in her seat with a quiet sigh. Evan said goodnight to the others and went to take a seat next to her.

“Hey. You look absolutely bushed.”

She gave him a small, rather bleary-eyed, smile. “Potions. Set yesterday, due tomorrow.”

“Ouch! You’re finished though, right?”

“I am, just. Thank Merlin for that!” She was overtaken by a huge yawn. “Oh! ‘Scuse me. So, did the hippogriff hatch all right?”

“Yeah. Stormswift’s his name. A little grey bundle of fluff and legs that already looks like he’s going to be trouble.”

Michelle smiled. “I’m sure he’s nothing you can’t handle. I think I’d like to see him, sometime.”

“Maybe let’s wait for a bit, and let him and his mother get settled in before we start introducing new people, but sure. Hippogriffs are fine so long as you remember your manners and don’t take them for granted.”

“Not tomorrow, but sometime. We’ve got to get a break sometime before the end of the year, right?”

“If we’re lucky, maybe. Are you going to head off to bed?”

“Yeah, I have officially run out of ‘go’ for the day,” she said, stifling another yawn. “Potions is done, but I’m still behind on that Transfig. essay.”

He smiled. “So am I, but in my case it’s because I’ve been slacking off this evening. We’ve got until Monday, after all.”

She gave him a tired smile, “Do you want to look at it tomorrow after class?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“OK, then. But now it’s bedtime for me, I think, before I turn into a pumpkin.”

“Night, Michelle. Sleep well.”

“G‘night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (From _Fantastic Beasts_: Hippogriffs lay a single egg, which hatches in 24 hours.)


	9. Nasty Girls

Normally, the end of class on a Friday would be a cause for celebration, and escaping from the tedium of Umbridge’s Defence class even more so, but when Michelle and the girls made it back to the common room, talking and laughing over the top of each other with their plans for a Hogsmeade weekend, they spied Susan and Hannah and Megan Jones from fifth-year clustered around their teary-eyed roommate, Eloise Midgeon, who was slumped at a table on the far side of the room. The older girls exchanged a look and changed course to meet them.

“What’s up, Hannah?” Tammy asked.

Hannah looked up with an uncharacteristic scowl. “Pansy Parkinson is such an absolute cow!” she growled.

“Chin up, Ellie, you’ll be all right,” said Megan Jones, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Eloise sniffed and wiped her eyes, but nodded all the same. “I know I shouldn’t let her upset me like that, but…” She broke off and shrugged.

“Easy to say, hard to do, isn’t it?” said Michelle. “And then people tell you that it’s only words.”

“Yeah, something like that. She started in on me in Ancient Runes, just because I got our homework question right and she got it wrong.”

“You were the _only_ one to get it right. Well, other than Hermione, but she’s always right so it doesn’t count,” said Hannah. “No wonder Babbling was pleased.”

“And no wonder Pansy was lashing out. She hates Hermione’s guts, and seeing her or anyone else do well in Ancient Runes is torture for her because she thinks she’s so superior but she’s terrible at it,” added Susan.

That got a tiny smile from Eloise. “She is, isn’t she? I’m not going to apologise for getting something right, though, it took me ages!”

“And nor should you!”

“Damn right!” added Maxi and Tammy vehemently.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’ve just heard all the insults and the Spotty Dotty jibes too often. You know that you ought to shrug it off, and you sort of do, you know? But it all builds up after a while, and I just… oh Merlin, I am going to grow out of this bloody acne eventually, aren’t I?” she moaned plaintively. “I mean, I just keep breaking out. It’s been so stressful this year, and that doesn’t help, but still!”

“There’s nothing much to say other than don’t listen to the bitches coming out with that sort of stuff, and talk to Sue or Hannah or any of us if it’s all getting a bit much,” said Megan.

“Thanks, guys,” she said glumly.

“And I keep telling you, go and see Madam Pomfrey. She can sort it out and give you that cream again,” Susan said patiently.

“I guess, but I don’t want to bother her about something trivial. And I ought to be able to deal with normal, teenage stuff like this by myself, shouldn’t I?”

“Not when it’s upsetting you or making you depressed, you shouldn’t. Go and see her. That’s what she’s there for.”

“You think you have to deal with everything on your own, don’t you?” said Michelle gently. “But you’ve got good friends around you, and they can help. It makes a big difference, knowing you aren’t alone.”

“Even if that cow Parkinson needs a damn good hexing,” said Tammy. “Just remember that she’s your typical Slytherin bully, all talk and no trousers unless they think you can’t fight back.”

“And she’s hardly one to talk about looks, either, she’s got a face like a dropped pie,” snorted Maxi.

“It’s all right, she makes up for it with a heart like a shrivelled walnut, and a personality like a bucket of cold sick,” said Susan, with a tight, humourless smile. “I would love to see her taken down a peg or three sometime.”

“That’s more likely than you think, I saw her hit a Ravenclaw second-year with a stink pellet yesterday,” scowled Becky.

“A second-year? Why on earth-?” Michelle began, only for Becky to cut her off.

“Why do you think? Rubbed it in her hair and made a big show of saying, ‘Stinks like mud in here’. Of course, Bulstrode brayed like a donkey, but the poor kid didn’t know what to do, she just looked bewildered.”

“You said it earlier, Megan - _bitch_!” Hannah said, her eyes spitting sparks.

“I hope ya bloody well hexed her back, Becky!” added Maxi.

“I would have done, but Snape appeared, and he just sort of sneered at me, like he was daring me to do anything. So I tried to look after her and charm her clean, but you know what those damn stink pellets are like. Even when you’ve got it all off, you think you can still smell it. I took her up to Ravenclaw and turned her over to Megs and Vinu. They said they’d handle it.”

“Yeah, but knowing those two, they’ll just tell Professor Flitwick, and then Umbridge will overrule him,” Maxi growled.

“It makes a few nasty words seem like nothing, doesn’t it?” said Eloise. “Picking on a little kid like that is disgusting!”

“It’s not nothing, but it does prove that Parkinson had better watch out if she thinks she can get away with that sort of thing. If she doesn’t end up trying it on someone who can kick her arse, then there’ll be someone who’ll be happy to kick it for them,” said Tammy.

Susan put her hand up like she was in class. “Can I volunteer? I want to volunteer.”

“You, Susan?” said Hannah, suppressing a chuckle. “Wow, she really must have got your goat. And besides, there’ll be a long queue.”

“The more the merrier, I always say,” said Megan.

“You guys look out for each other. And maybe we should remind the other years to do the same,” suggested Michelle.

Maxi grunted. “Huh, yeah. We’re Hufflepuffs, though. We always stick together, no matter what.”

“I’m sure a reminder wouldn’t hurt, just to put everyone on their toes.”

“You’re probably right. Parkinson won’t know what’s hit her if she tries it on with one of us,” said Tammy, flexing her hands as if Pansy’s neck was already in range.

“Sure she will,” said Maxi cheerfully. “‘Cos I’ll wake the bitch up and hex her again, just so as she knows.”

That got a round of laughter.

“It’s good to see you smile again, Ellie,” said Megan.

Eloise looked around the group. “Thank you, everyone. I really do feel a bit better, now.” She took a deep breath and changed the subject. “So, where are the guys? Normally you all hang out with each other all the time.”

“Ravi was going to look up some stuff for Divination in the library, and Chris was going, too,” said Becky. “I’m not sure about the others.”

Tammy made a face. “Quidditch. Smith’s still having a tantrum because Evan skipped practice yesterday for the hippogriff hatching, so he’s making him fly a load of exercises and stuff today. Mike went along, too, in the hope of talking some sense into him.”

Susan rolled her eyes. “Why - _why _\- did Professor Sprout let Smith have the captaincy? He’s a complete tit!”

“Ah, just think, you’ll have another three years of his genius once we’re gone,” Maxi said archly. “An’ won’t that be something for yers ter look forward to?”

“Maxi, that’s cruel,” Tammy said, trying to smother her laughter.

“Oh well, bang goes any hope of the Quidditch Cup while I’m at school, then,” sighed Megan.

“Where’s the rest of your lot, then?” asked Tammy. “Off flogging themselves in the library over O.W.L.s, I expect?”

“Yeah, although I think Wayne’s more interested in flogging Leanne’s tonsils than anything else,” Hannah said, with a shudder, making them all laugh.

“Young love, isn’t it wonderful?” Becky giggled. “So, what other gossip is there in fifth-year?”

Hannah grinned. “Not much, really. Ernie’s got the hots for Padma in Ravenclaw. Eyes like organ-stops whenever she walks past, it’s somewhere between gross and hilarious. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan are doing their best to get Michael Corner killed by talking about what a stud he is every time Ron Weasley’s around, ‘cause Michael’s dating Ron’s sister, and Ron’s being a complete idiot about it. Anthony Goldstein’s still in the world’s most boring romance with Tracey Davis and won’t shut up about it.”

“Even if everyone really, _really_ wishes he would,” Megan interjected, with a sigh.

“Yeah! Huh, and Harry Potter keeps making a bloody fool of himself over Cho Chang, and of course she does nothing but encourage it.”

“_Cho_?” Maxi and Tammy exclaimed in disbelief, with Tammy adding, “Really?”

“Yeah. Oh, everyone knows he had a crush on her last year, too, but this year, all of a sudden, she’s fawning over him - and then she remembers Cedric and goes to pieces. ‘Awkward’ isn’t the half of it.”

Maxi scratched her head, and shrugged. “Well, that’s just a red-hot mess all ‘round. Not our business, I suppose, but - yuck!”

Hannah grimaced, “I know, but the things the likes of Parkinson and her chums are saying about her. Calling her a tramp, and a fame-hound, and star-f-”

“All right, we get the picture!”

“Maxi’s right, it looks like a disaster in the making to me,” said Susan. “Even if she does like Harry, it’s way, way too soon for her.”

“Maybe they’ll work it out,” Michelle said, a little unconvincingly. “I mean, Cho’s all right, really. Well, she was before… you know.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think she means anything bad, but Harry has got to be the most clueless boy you can imagine-”

Hannah raised her hand, “Point of order! Ron Weasley and Hermione!”

Susan, Megan, and Ellie giggled, and Susan corrected herself and continued. “Yeah, OK, good point. Harry’s the _second_-most clueless boy at Hogwarts! Either way, I just can’t see him being able to deal with Cho or anyone else in the state that she’s in. Plus, every time she sees Harry reminds her, you know?”

“Oh well, that’s their problem and the best thing we can do is leave them to it.” Hannah grinned slyly at Susan. “Who knows, Sue, maybe you can swoop in and pick up the pieces later on, give Harry a shoulder to cry on, that sort of thing.”

Susan went rather pink. The others grinned, and Maxi patted her on the shoulder.

“Ah, it’s the hope that kills ya, isn’t it? Anyway, I want to go and dump me stuff and have a shower. Loads to do before dinner, and then we’ve got Defence homework later on.”

Megan made a face. “More of Umbridge’s crap? What a start to the weekend!”

“Not quite, we’re doing a bit of extra reading, too,” Michelle said innocently.

“Aye, got to put ol’ Slinkhard in context, like,” said Maxi.

Hannah and Susan exchanged a look. “Well, good luck with that. You know, if you want a little more help-” Susan began tentatively, only for Maxi to cut her off with a nod.

“We’ll go and talk to the Weasley boys, yeah. Thanks, Susan.”

“Bloody Defence!” snorted Megan. “No wonder there’s so much Umbridge-itis around at the minute.”

“I’m pretty sure that Umbridge-itis is going to continue all year,” said Hannah, with an uncharacteristic smirk. “It’s a veritable plague!”

“I would have just dropped Defence for this year if it wasn’t compulsory at O.W.L.s,” Megan continued. “Even so, I’m probably going to end up with a ‘T’, which makes me wonder why I’m bothering.”

“Me, too!” sighed Ellie. “I am dropping Defence _so hard_ after this year, the professor will probably bounce,”

“Oh, please do try dropping Umbridge and see if she bounces!” said Maxi cheerfully. “From the top of the Astronomy Tower ought to do it.”

“What was that someone said earlier about their being a queue?” Ellie giggled.

“I think the queue starts somewhere near Hogsmeade,” said Tammy, with a chuckle.

“There’s a stroke of luck, we’ll all be there tomorrow!” Maxi said brightly. “Anyway, I’m off ter me dorm for a bit.”

Tammy hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder, “Yeah, I ought to drop some stuff off and get started on homework, especially if I want to actually make it to Hogsmeade tomorrow.”

“Me, too,” added Michelle.

“We’ll be out in a bit,” said Becky.

In her dorm, Michelle swung her book bag off her shoulder and let it sail onto her bed. Beside her, Tammy had already wrestled off her school robes and dumped them in the laundry, and she quickly grabbed an Ancient Runes textbook and headed back out into the common room. Michelle was feeling a little less urgency, though, and instead pulled her hair out of its tail and shook it out, before rummaging in her dresser for a clean shirt and pullover. Maxi walked past for the bathroom, leaving just her and Becky. She had changed and was contemplating either a hair clip or just leaving her hair loose, when Becky spoke up.

“Michelle? You seemed to have a pretty good idea of what Eloise was thinking, earlier. You’ve felt like that, too, haven’t you?”

Becky’s voice was quiet and serious, and Michelle looked back over her shoulder to see her friend watching her carefully.

“Not exactly, but feeling alone and lost and confused? Feeling like you’re weak or not good enough if you can’t deal with everything on your own? Yeah, I think I have. Haven’t we all, at some point?” _Oh, sod it, loose will do, it’s been up all day_.

Becky bit her lip. “You have more than most, though, right?”

Michelle paused, then turned to face Becky, clutching one elbow awkwardly with her other hand. “Um… I don’t know. I mean, how do you tell? But I think I’m getting a little better at dealing with that sort of thing, now. Maybe it’s part of growing up, or whatever.” She gave her a small, fond smile. “Maybe I realised just how lucky I am with my friends. Ellie will be all right, Hannah and the others are a pretty good bunch.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking that maybe we should have noticed more.”

“You noticed enough, and believe me, I was so grateful that you all were there whenever I needed you. A lot of it is self-confidence, and maybe that’s not always my strong suit. It’s never nice to have someone being mean to you, especially about things that you’re sensitive about, but I think I’ve got a little better at letting it go and not taking it to heart. It’s hard, though.”

Becky smiled. “And this from the girl that used to hide behind us whenever Miles Bletchley and Anastasia Halkett walked past. You’ve come a long way, Michelle.”

Michelle swallowed, feeling a familiar shiver run down her backbone. “Yeah. Anastasia has a really nasty mouth on her, and Bletchley could land a trip jinx or a pinching hex from just about anywhere.”

Becky’s smile vanished, and she gaped at her for a moment before realisation hit. “Halfway through second year. Cedric and Maxi got detention. They never would explain why.”

“Yeah. Maxi found out about it. I think Cedric was trying to hold her back, but of course Snape wouldn’t listen. Anyway, they’ve left me alone since then, but it took a while before I could bear to face them. They sort of knew that, of course, and they’d smirk at me from across the room, and technically they weren’t _doing_ anything, but-”

“You should have said something.”

“Maybe I should.” Michelle summoned a small, rather twisted, smile, and forced herself to go on. “But it was only a little thing. I should be able to deal with it on my own, remember? Even afterwards, like I said, they weren’t actually doing anything, so there wasn’t much to say. You sort of rationalise it all away.”

Becky swallowed, then tossed her Charms textbook on her bed and came over to give her a hug. “I’m sorry for not knowing. You shouldn’t have had to deal with it on your own.”

Michelle hugged her tightly. “You guys have been great. I wasn’t alone, not really, I just had to learn to accept that.” She took a deep breath and blew it out sharply, releasing her friend. “Enough of the serious stuff! Let’s go and get homework out of the way, and then we’ve got all day clear for Hogsmeade tomorrow!”

* * * * *

Perhaps it was a result of their talk the previous day, but Michelle noticed that Becky was never far from her side the next morning. Evan appeared briefly at breakfast, still in his running gear, and then vanished off to the hippogriff paddocks after a hurried meal, as had become his habit. In contrast, she took her time getting ready, making sure to renew the _Impervius_ charms on her shoes and put her gloves in her cloak pocket, but soon enough it was time to head for the Great Hall to be marked off the roll by Mr. Filch for a day of comparative freedom. Tammy was already deep in conversation with Vinu and Megan from Ravenclaw and Karen and Trish from Gryffindor, and they set off for Hogsmeade as a group. She had nothing in particular she needed to get, so she was content to drift along with the others from shop to shop, and just enjoy their cheerful company and bright conversation despite the steady, misting drizzle.

There was one obvious absentee from their usual group though, and outside Zonko’s she asked generally, “Where’s Maxi today? I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“The same place as Mike, at a guess, and I suspect it’s best not to ask where that is!” said Tammy, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

The girls laughed, and Michelle joined in, although she could feel her cheeks burning. They had to slow as they passed through a large group of sixth-years coming the other way, and suddenly Michelle found herself face to face with Helen Chambers, who greeted her with a warm smile.

“Hi, Michelle! You’re looking a lot better this week,” she said cheerfully. With her cold-pinked cheeks and her long, black curls tumbling out from under a woolly hat, Michelle thought she looked impossibly cute.

“Hi, Helen! I feel better, too, thanks. Madam Pomfrey sorted me out without too much trouble.”

“That’s good. It’s no fun being sick, especially when you’re busy. Oh, I am _not _looking forward to next year!”

_She’s so nice, it’s impossible not to like her_. Michelle’s smile faded. “Helen, look… I think I owe you an apology. I was kinda rude and grumpy last week, and I shouldn’t have been. I’m sorry.”

The two groups were separating and leaving them behind, although she saw Becky looking back at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Hey, no big deal. Everyone has an off day, now and then.” Helen looked at her consideringly for a moment, and then added, “Actually, can I have a word?”

She led them a short distance away to the mouth of the alley that ran behind Ceridwen's Cauldrons, where they could have a modicum of privacy, then turned to her, a serious look on her face. “I think I know why you weren’t happy with me,” she said quietly. “I was just worried about Evan because I know how hard we collided during the game. I didn’t mean to butt in on you guys, or anything.” Helen gave her a cautious smile, “It’s really sweet how he looked after you. And that morning before the game, too.”

“Oh. Um…” She trailed off, not quite sure where to go with that but feeling the heat rising in her face, all the same. _She’s rather distressingly sharp. Then again, she is in Ravenclaw, I suppose_. Fortunately, Helen simply carried on, tactfully glossing over her embarrassment, and her kind smile didn’t falter.

“Look, I’ll be completely honest with you. Yes, I like Evan. Quite a lot, actually, he’s a great guy. But at the same time, I’m not going to ask him out or anything, because I know I’d be completely wasting my time. He’s only got eyes for one person, and everyone can see that.” She glanced over Michelle’s shoulder and added, “In fact, there he is now. I think he’s looking for you, so go and make his day!”

_Oh Merlin, don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t… oh, for Pete’s sake!_ “Thanks, Helen. And again, I’m sorry about last week. Anyway, I hope you have a great day.”

“Thanks, you too!”

Helen hurried off to rejoin her friends with a spring in her step, and Michelle took a deep, steadying breath before turning back to the street. Evan’s eyes caught hers, and suddenly, the awkwardness and embarrassment melted away. She crossed the road and met him under the awning of the Magic Neep. Under his heavy cloak he was wearing a fluffy, blue scarf that she’d given him for his birthday the previous year. The others teased him about it mercilessly - _Oh, Evan, it matches your eyes! _(of course it did, why did they think she bought it?) - but he would just shrug and ignore them. Maybe it was because it was wonderfully warm - she had been tempted to steal it back from him once or twice. _And maybe_, a small, secret part of her whispered,_ he knows about the butterflies it gives you when he wears it. That’s not at all wishful thinking, is it?_

She shook off her traitorous thoughts and greeted him cheerfully. “Hi, Evan! Where have you been, out to the hippogriffs again?”

“Hi!” He smiled at her, pushing his damp hair back off his forehead. “Sorry I’m so late, I had a few things to take out there, and I thought I’d spend some time with Fleetwing and Windrush, but I got kind of distracted and lost track of time.”

“So I see. How are Caroline and the chick?” she asked brightly, as they set off in the direction of Honeydukes. She could see the others up ahead, already filing into the sweet shop.

“Fine. Caroline seems pretty relaxed about the whole mothering thing, although Storm’s a bit of a menace. He’s much better on his legs, now, and the little bugger tries to eat just about everything in beak range.”

He looked away when he spoke, and actually seemed a bit embarrassed.

She tilted her head and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I have to buy some new dragon-hide gloves,” he admitted sheepishly. “Caroline must have nicked my old ones out of my back pocket when I wasn’t looking and fed them to Storm. He couldn’t really eat them, I suppose, but by the time I found them, he’d chewed them up pretty thoroughly.”

That made her giggle. “Couldn’t you have just bought him a cuttlefish?”

Evan looked strangely intrigued. “There’s a question - do hippogriffs eat cuttlefish? I’ve got no idea, I can’t think the question has ever come up.”

“Maybe you should ask Hagrid.”

“Maybe I will. Can’t you just see him wheeling a barrow-full of cuttlefish through the forest to the hippogriffs? ‘Come on, me lovelies, I got a nice cuttlefish here for ya!’”

She laughed. It was all too easy to imagine the massive groundskeeper marching proudly along with a wheelbarrow full of treats for his ‘pets’. As Evan had put it once, Hagrid was a strange mixture of enormous enthusiasm, genuinely detailed knowledge, surprising skill and gentleness, and pure, unaffected blindness to the fact that most people considered the creatures he admired most to be utterly lethal. There were still rumours that he’d tried to raise a dragon hatchling in his cottage a few years back!

“OK, so we are definitely stopping at the pet shop before we go back, but can we go to Honeydukes first?”

He chuckled, and nudged her shoulder gently, “Of course, I know better than to get in your way when Honeydukes is in sight. You know, I bet if there was a fudge-flavoured cuttlefish in there, you’d buy it for yourself!”

“Oh, come on! I’m not _that _bad!”

“Of course you’re not, but I’m the one that’ll have to explain to Storm why you’ve eaten his cuttlefish.”

“Evan!” she groaned in fond exasperation.

The bell above the door jangled, and they stepped into the warmth and _amazing_ smells of one of her favourite places. Becky looked up from her conversation with Vinu and Karen.

“Oh, there you are. And I should have known you’d be the one to round up our wayward wanderer. All right, Evan?”

“Hi, everyone,” he said, and with that, they were drawn back into the gang again.

Despite Evan’s teasing, she restricted herself to two small boxes of toffee at Honeydukes, and later, Mike and Maxi rejoined them when they reached the Three Broomsticks for lunch. They offered no explanation for their absence, and certainly no one was going to ask. After a long, leisurely lunch, she headed for the bookshop with Vinu and Alicia Spinnet. She did need a new novel, but most of all, it was warm and cosy, and the owner didn’t mind a bit of quiet conversation between friends, and made delicious hot chocolate, too.

With the light starting to fade, it was time to head back to the castle, and they joined the stream of students trudging back up the path to Hogwarts. Waiting in the Entrance Hall for Mr. Filch to mark them all off again as having returned, she spotted Evan and Ravi talking with Roger Davies, Grant Page, and Jason Samuels. The Ravenclaw boys all said ‘Hi’, but they had reached the front of the line, and turned to give their attention to the caretaker and then passed through into the castle. A minute later, she had been crossed off his list as well, and found Evan and Ravi waiting by the top of the stairs down to Hufflepuff.

“So, did you get some new gloves?” she asked Evan, as the barrels swung aside and they made their way into the common room.

“Right here,” he said, patting his bag. “What about you, did you find a new book?”

“Sort of. They didn’t have the next one in the series I’ve been reading, but I found something that’ll do in the mean time. Oh, and before I forget, I got something for you.”

She stopped and reached into her bag, and pulled out a large, snowy-white cuttlefish. Evan grinned, and swung his bag around in front of himself. After a few seconds’ rummaging, he held up… and almost identical cuttlefish.

“You know, the shopkeeper looked at me really oddly when I bought this.”

She laughed, but Ravi was watching them in bewilderment. “What the heck are you two up to now? What _are _those?”

“Cuttlefish,” Evan said innocently, holding it out to him. “Hungry?”

Ravi muttered something under his breath about ‘Weirdos’ and shoved his hand away, grinning. “Thanks, but I think I can wait until dinner.”

They went and dumped their bags and heavy cloaks in their dorms, then drifted back into the common room. The common room was strangely quiet, so Michelle and Evan found armchairs right beside the fire without any trouble. She heard a suppressed yawn, and Evan’s long legs stretched out towards the glowing embers.

“You look tired,” she told him quietly.

“I am, a bit,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I got to bed late last night, and didn’t sleep all that well, and then I somehow managed to wake up early. It’s been a bit of a long day.”

“And you were running around with the hippogriffs, too. You know, maybe you should have had a day off and left it with Hagrid. It’s his job, after all.”

Evan grunted, not quite an agreement. “You know, I’m really not sure what’s going on with Hagrid,” he said at last. “Getting to spend so much time with the hippogriffs is great for my project, but I can’t help but think that he’s not been spending much time out there with the herd himself. Oh, they know who he is and they don’t mind him, but they just don’t give out the impression that he’s there every day, you know? Although _something’s_ been dinging him up, he’s always got a new bruise or two, it seems.”

“I hadn’t really noticed on either count, but I’m sure you know what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently Umbridge has really been making a nuisance of herself in his classes with the younger students. She doesn’t bother with our classes, probably because there’s so few of us she doesn’t think it’s worth the time, but poor old Hagrid really does seem a bit disheartened by it all.”

“That inspection nonsense is really nasty. Ravi says she’s absolutely horrible to Professor Trelawney, too.”

“He’s fine once you get him out there with the animals, that’s the thing. He’s been his usual self whenever we’ve been working with the thestrals, but away from that, he’s on edge and nervous, and fluffs his words when he’s teaching from a book, and gets himself in a muddle. Justin and Wayne in fifth-year were telling me that Umbridge is constantly on at him in their classes, always interrupting him and making out like he’s not making sense. The Slytherins play along with her, too, and that makes it even worse.”

“Maybe that’s it, then. He’s so worried about what she’s doing that he’s spending his time making sure he keeps his job rather than working with the animals. From what Ravi was saying, that’s exactly what she’s been doing with Professor Trelawney, too, and she’s handling it even worse than Hagrid. Breaking down in tears in the middle of her class, that sort of thing, and Umbridge just tuts loudly and scribbles on her clipboard to rub it in.”

He sighed. “So I suppose the question is, what can we do about it?”

“Probably not a lot, other than not make any more trouble for them,” she said reluctantly. “Let’s hope Dumbledore’s got something up his sleeve.”

“Yeah, well, having seen the _Prophet_ recently, I reckon they’re hell-bent on getting him out of the way, too,” Evan said darkly. “And if that doesn’t prove that Umbridge and Fudge have completely lost the plot, I don’t know what does.”

“Then maybe Vinu is right, and the best thing we can do is keep our heads down until the end of the school year. At this stage, I really don’t see that we’ve got any alternative.”


	10. Inviting Trouble

November departed in a flurry of icy weather and rain, the sun seldom seen through a thick, relentless layer of lowering grey cloud, but few of the students had time to be overly-concerned with the state of the weather, as they were kept far too busy inside the castle. Only the Quidditch teams regularly ventured outside out of class, and even they were cutting down on practice sessions in deference to their players’ hefty workloads.

The student that braved the weather most regularly was Evan. Every other afternoon, and sometimes more frequently, he could be seen flying across the grounds past Hagrid’s cottage and around behind the castle. As the days shortened, his absences became shorter, too, but even then he often returned to the castle in darkness. Somehow, he still kept up with the rest of them on homework but many times, when nearly all the other Hufflepuffs had retreated to bed, Michelle would see him wedged into a chair beside the fire, jotting notes in a tiny, nearly illegible script into his Care of Magical Creatures notebook. She tried to stay up with him and keep him company once, but the lateness of the hour and the heat from the fire made her nod off. She awoke with a gasp some time in the small hours to find a blanket had been pulled up over her and a pillow tucked under her cheek. The most likely culprit was still slumped in the old, overstuffed armchair next to her, dead to the world.

One morning at breakfast shortly after Chris and Becky’s birthdays, two shapes arced away from the whirling mass of postal owls and swooped down towards the Hufflepuff table and the cluster of seventh-years.

“Look out, Michelle, incoming feather duster!” Mike chuckled.

Her head shot up, and she smiled when she recognised one of the approaching birds.

“There’s one for you, too, Ravi,” she pointed out, holding up her arm for Rascal to alight on. “Hello, pretty bird! Did you bring something for me?” she cooed quietly, rubbing the bird’s crest and cheek. Rascal let out a soft chirp and pushed against her fingers with enthusiasm. He waited patiently while she untied the letter from his leg, then jumped down and started strutting up and down the table, evidently pleased with himself, while she opened the envelope. She had just started to read when she heard an outraged ‘Hey!’, and looked up to see Rascal hopping awkwardly away from Ravi’s plate with a sausage grasped in one talon. Ravi glared at the offender, flapping his own letter to protect his plate from further attack, while the others roared with laughter.

“Rascal!” she groaned through her laughter.

“The bloody cheek!”

“He’s well-named, as you should know by now, Ravi,” Becky snickered.

“And he shouldn’t be eating all that, or he’ll make himself sick,” said Michelle. She stretched out a hand, but Rascal dropped his wings and crouched protectively over his prize. “Oh, fine! Well, go on, then, and when you’ve slept off the indigestion, maybe I’ll have a return letter for you.”

She turned back to her letter as Rascal flew away. A smile lit up her face and, perhaps inevitably, she turned to the boy at her side. “Oh, hey! Mum and Dad have invited you and your mum over for Christmas, again!”

“Really? Cool! I assume Mum will say yes.”

“She already has, apparently, they asked her first.” Michelle grinned, “I guess they didn’t think you’d say no.”

“All together, now - _awwwww_!” said Tammy. The others joined in, then laughed.

“So, what’s it going to be, Evan?” asked Mike.

“Eh… I’ll think about it,” Evan said, shrugging. That only made the others laugh harder, and Michelle tried to quell the small bubble of excitement in her chest as the others teased him. Despite his pretended indifference, she hadn't missed the look he’d given her, and the memory sent a warming jolt through her. _Christmas can’t come soon enough!_

* * * * *

After class, Tammy hurried back to the common room to try to get a drop on her homework for the night. They would have another session on Defence homework later - their version, not the nonsense that Umbridge came out with - and she knew she was behind on Ancient Runes, especially with the test coming up the following day. Quickly, she grabbed her textbook and her Runes folder, and found a small table in the common room. The rest of the seventh-years were uncharacteristically scattered. Mike and Maxi were supposed to be doing some Charms work in the library, but would probably be somewhere quiet, more focused on biology. Chris, Ravi, and Becky had gone to meet Kenny Towler and Trish Stimpson from Gryffindor for a Herbology project, and Michelle was sitting on her own under one of the windows that looked out across the half-frozen grounds, practising her Transfiguration.

Being just about anywhere else sounded pretty good, because she was finding it almost impossible to concentrate on Ancient Runes, and the more that she told herself that she needed to knuckle down and get on with it, the more her thoughts drifted to other, more appetising, topics. After nearly twenty minutes of distracted and easily-distractable revision, the sight of Evan emerging from the direction of the boys’ dorm caught her eye, an envelope clutched loosely in his hand. He glanced around the common room and, perhaps inevitably, headed straight for Michelle.

“Hey. That seems to be going well,” Tammy heard him say.

Michelle looked up at him and - _of course_ \- her face lit up with a cheerful, rather doe-eyed, smile. She passed him a little metal object, almost certainly one of the thimbles they were supposed to conjure as part of their homework. Tammy felt a small stab of jealousy at the neat pile Michelle had produced, stacked on the window sill in front of her. _Damn it, I really need to get into gear on Transfig., too. This year is just impossible to keep up with!_

“Yeah, it’s taken a while, but once I worked out that last wand twist, it seems to be coming together.”

“Nice! Those are looking great!” said Evan, picking one of the thimbles up and twirling it in his fingers to admire it from all sides. “You’ve even got the pattern on it, too. I think I’ve still got a bit to go before I catch up to that level. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d written back to your parents yet? If you have, I’ve got something to send with it, if that’s OK?”

_Oh, I bet you do, too! For Merlin’s sake, just _kiss_, for crying out loud!_

“Um, I got started on a reply at lunch but ran out of time. Tell you what, you stay here and work on your conjuring, and I’ll nip into my dorm and finish it off. If you’ve cracked it by the time I get back, we can take the letters up to Rascal - deal?”

He grinned, “Wow, you drive a hard bargain, Miss Taylor!”

That made her laugh. “Call it motivation, or something. I won’t be long.”

Michelle got up and stretched, then headed for the dorm room. Tammy couldn’t resist a wistful sigh as she disappeared up the corridor.

“That is just so cute. You two _really_ need to go somewhere and snog, you know that?”

He ignored her, but she saw a twitch of his shoulder that meant he’d heard. Instead, he took Michelle’s place at the seat under the window and drew his wand.

“I mean, the Owlery will be _nice and quiet_ at this time of day.”

He ignored her even more pointedly, but the thimble he produced was twisted and lop-sided. _Something on your mind, Evan? Or some_one_, perhaps?_

“Come on, Evan, you’re even going to spend Christmas with her!” Tammy said, trying to stifle her laughter.

“And? Our parents are friends,” he pointed out gruffly.

She couldn’t restrain a snort. “Yeah, they are _now_. They’d sort of have to be, for the amount of time they’ve spent shuttling you two backwards and forwards to each others’ houses over the years.”

“Tammy, give it a rest, will you?”

“You know, you’re practically married already, you should just get it over with. They’re just getting a head start on the inevitable.”

“Tammy, I swear, I’ve had about enough of this,” he said impatiently, slapping his wand down on the sill.

“Alright, alright, sorry.” She couldn’t resist adding one final comment, “You do know she’s absolutely crazy about you, though, right?”

He whirled on her, and to her shock, his face was dark with fury. “You’ve lived with her for seven years, Tamsin, you figure it out! But you endlessly wittering on about it is _getting on my tits!_”

A sudden hush fell over the common room at his raised voice, and she shrank back in her seat.

“Uh… Evan, look, I-”

He threw up his hands and stomped away, snarling, “Oh, just piss off, Applebee!”

A sick, sinking feeling settled in her stomach as she watched him storm away and out of the common room, and there was some rather nervous laughter from a few of the other Hufflepuffs. Normally, it was water off a duck’s back to him. _Normally_. Normally, it was all in good fun, and holy cow, did they need a good nudge, those two! _Normally_. But clearly, even his patience had limits.

Suddenly, it really wasn’t fun, anymore.

* * * * *

Michelle hurried back into the common room with a bounce in her step, but stopped in confusion. _No Evan. People kinda _looking_ at me. And Tammy looks like she’s about to cry_. Hesitantly, she went over to her friend.

“Everything all right, Tammy?”

“Yeah,” Tammy muttered, watery-looking eyes fixed firmly on her textbook.

_Well, this is awkward_. “Oh. Oh, um… Evan. Did, uh-”

“He went out.”

“I… um, right. Uh, I’ll just, just…”

Guiltily, she retreated, questions warring in her mind about _what _and _why_, and even although it was obvious, she had clearly missed something and now she couldn’t think of a way to ask without making things worse, and Tammy looked bad enough as it was, and what about Evan?

Reaching the Entrance Hall, she stopped for a second a tried to think. _Well, he clearly didn’t wait here, or in the Great Hall, so either he’s gone somewhere else or maybe he’s gone straight up to the Owlery without waiting for me. Well, I suppose I need to go there anyway, although if he isn’t there, do I send Rascal anyway and then send his letter when he gets back, or with a school owl, or do I just wait? Surely, I should just wait, but…_

Her feet carried her to the Owlery almost on their own, her head full of worry until she finally reached the Owlery tower and pulled open the heavy, wooden door to a familiar gust of scent, warm feathers and owl dung in freezing-cold air. Evan stood near the water trough that ran along one wall with Rascal perched on his hand, and she could hear him talking quietly, gently scratching the bird’s head with his free hand, but he broke off and looked up at the sound of the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she said tentatively, her breath pluming in the cold, and she let the door fall shut behind her with a hollow boom. There was an irritated rustling of feathers and shifting of feet from above at the noise, but she took a few paces into the room and tried to think of what to say. Evan simply watched her, and in lieu of any better ideas, she swallowed, and decided to go with business first. “Have you got your letter?”

“Here,” he said, holding it up. Rascal clicked his beak and tilted his head to peer at her through his unfathomable dark eyes.

She walked over and together, they tied their letters to Rascal’s leg and then took him to one of the tall, narrow windows that looked out over the grounds. “This is for Mum and Dad, Rascal. Home. Can you do that for me, pretty bird?” she said softly. Rascal simply puffed out his feathers briefly and then half-spread his wings, an unmistakable reply of readiness. “Go on, then. Safe travels.”

Evan lifted his arm, and Rascal launched himself into the evening gloom. Michelle leaned against the cold stone of the window arch to watch him soar away over the darkened fields until he was lost from view. With a shiver, she stepped back and rubbed her biceps, regretting not wearing anything warmer than her uniform cardigan. Evan was still standing rigidly by the window but after staring out into the evening a little longer, he turned to her and his cheek twitched up into a small, somewhat forced, smile.

“All right, Michelle?”

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “So. I thought you were going to wait for me, you know.”

He grimaced. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK. You needed to get out, that sort of thing?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He sighed and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I had a bit of a bust-up with Tammy,” he admitted reluctantly.

_No kidding. Even I could tell that, although it doesn’t tell me what it was about_. “Yeah. She looked really upset.”

“I probably flew off the handle a bit, but she really doesn’t know when to stop, sometimes.”

_Oh. OK, that tells me _exactly_ what it was about, but normally that doesn’t bother you. Or at least, it never _seems_ to_. “I know what you mean.” She took a step towards him and put a hand on his arm. “She’s not trying to hurt anyone, but she can be a bit much, sometimes, can’t she?”

He covered her hand with his and squeezed her fingers gently, making her heart pound painfully. “I think maybe I need to have a bit of a break from Tammy,” he said at last. “I know she means well, and all that, but Merlin’s balls, am I sick of it right now. I probably shouldn’t have snapped at her, but… well, a bit late for that now.”

_What’s different this time?_ She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She couldn't even decide what she want the answer to be - an answer of ‘Nothing’ or an answer of… well, _that_. But that was ridiculous, because wasn’t _that_ what she wanted? Wasn’t it? She shivered again, harder this time, and not from the cold.

His fingers squeezed hers again, and his voice jolted her back to the present. “Sorry, you’re freezing, aren’t you? Let’s get back to the common room.”

The castle was as frigid as it always was in winter, but even so, stepping back out of the Owlery and letting the door fall shut behind them felt like stepping into warmth by comparison. She trailed after him in silence, thoughts whirling in her head, until she stopped beside the statue of Wilfred the Wistful. Evan continued for a few paces, then realised and stopped himself, looking back at her enquiringly.

“Everything all right?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it,” she said softly. “Evan, I-” She took a deep breath and forced herself to go on. “I’ve noticed that you’re not quite yourself, recently. Like this thing with Tammy. That’s not normally like you.”

He looked at her for a moment, then his shoulders slumped and he looked away. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired, or something. I’ll be all right.”

“Ignoring it won’t make it go away, either.” She took a tentative step towards him. “I hate it when you try to just brush off things that are bothering you.”

He tried to summon a smile, and only got a brief twitch of the lip instead. “Like I said, I’m probably just tired. I’ve got shedloads to do and it’s been keeping me up, trying to get everything done on time, and there’s our Defence stuff, and Quidditch, and with one thing and another, I’m just really not in the mood for Tammy being a pain in the arse on top of everything else.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. She noticed that it wavered a little. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said again. “Stomping off in a huff and wanting to avoid her for a bit probably isn’t the best reaction, and I don’t know if it’s going to actually do anything, anyway. The more I think about it, the more stupid it seems.”

“You’re still annoyed, though, aren’t you? Even if you don’t quite think you should be.”

“Yeah.”

“Taking a break from each other every now and then probably isn’t the worst thing in the world,” she said, feeling a little more confident in herself. There was a small feeling of triumph that she could get him to share with her. “We’re a pretty close bunch, so we’re bound to rub each other up the wrong way from time to time. That’s life. It’s certainly not like it’s the first time, is it?”

“Yeah, but it’ll put everyone else in an awkward position, and they’ll worry about taking sides, and I’m sure they’ve got plenty of more important things to worry about already without me adding to it.”

“I’ll talk to them, if necessary. Honestly, Evan, they’ll understand. Give yourself some time, and just let things cool off for a while. It’ll be fine.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“It’ll be fine,” she repeated. Steeling herself, she took the last few paces towards him and put her hand on his arm. “But you need to allow yourself to talk about things, too. Let it out, let off some steam, if you need to. I know that’s not really your thing, but-”

There was an awkward cough, and Michelle leapt back from Evan like she’d been stung and spun around. A third-year girl in Gryffindor robes sidled past them, muttering apologies, and hurried off towards the Owlery, all the while refusing to look at them.

Evan watched her go with raised eyebrows. “Maybe this isn’t the greatest place for an in-depth, personal discussion, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t deserve _that_ reaction!”

She smiled at him, willing the blood back out of her cheeks. “Yeah. But before we embarrass any more passing kids, I was just going to finish up by saying that you can always talk to me if you need to get things off your chest. If you want to, I mean.”

“Kinda like now. Thanks, Michelle.” His smile slowly faded, and she could almost see the wheels still churning in his head. Knowing him well, she simply kept quiet and waited, and after a long pause, he continued. “I ran into Cho today. It’s probably the first time I’ve been able to actually have a proper conversation with her since school started again.”

“How was she?” she asked cautiously.

“She was great, actually. Just like she used to be.” He sighed, “I like Cho, and it was good to see her back to her normal self, but we very carefully didn’t talk about anything that _matters_, you know? And she knew that, and I knew that, and we both knew that each other knew, and so I really don’t know where that left things. I mean, we were never best buddies or anything, but there’s this enormous, Cedric-shaped chasm that we were tiptoeing around, and I don’t know if that was the right thing to do or if I should have said or done something different, something that might actually help her, somehow.”

_Oh Evan, you’re such a _boy, _sometimes_. “I don’t know if it was the right thing, either, or even if there _is_ a right thing to do, but maybe it did help her. Maybe you talked about exactly what she wanted to talk about, and it helped by not being confronted with _those_ memories again. Maybe she felt like it was another piece of a normal life again, one that she’s trying to rebuild. Just because it’s not obvious to you doesn’t mean it wasn’t important to her.”

“You’re probably right,” he said quietly. “And it’s not like it’s a thing that can be fixed, anyway, so why am I thinking like I should do something? It’s about her, not about me.” He let out a growl of frustration, “I just hate not knowing what to do for best.”

“You do the best you can, and you trust yourself, because you’ve got a good heart,” she said softly. “I know that, and so do all your friends. That’s why we trust you, in turn.”

“Right up until the point I start blowing up at them for a bit of teasing.” He shook his head, “Gah, I need to snap myself out of this.”

“I think you need a night off, and a good night’s sleep, too. What do you have due tomorrow?”

“Just the conjuring for Transfig., I think. I’m about up to date on everything else other than Defence.”

“I can help you with Transfiguration, I don’t think it’ll take long. Come on, let’s go back to the common room and see if we can’t button it up before dinner.”

He fell in beside her again as they headed for the stairs. “Only if I can help you with something. How about some of the advanced animations in Charms?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, but you’re helping me, and it’s only fair that I do something for you in return.”

“Well, then, it’s a deal - but not tonight. After dinner, you’re going to sit down and relax and try not to think about school for a bit,” she said firmly.

He chuckled, and shook his head. “Like I said earlier, you drive a hard bargain, Miss Taylor!”

“And don’t you forget it, Mr. Fielding!” she said, shaking a finger at him in mock sternness and making him laugh. _Already, he looks more relaxed_.

The common room was buzzing with students when they got back, and Chris waved to her from a table nearby with Ravi and Becky. She changed course to join them, but couldn’t help noticing Tammy slink quietly out of the room from the corner of her eye. Evan had noticed and was watching her go, too, with a rather odd look on his face, part frustration and part regret. She shook her head and tried to focus on her other friends. Tammy could wait until later, but she had a feeling that it might take quite a lot to talk it through with her blonde friend.

* * * * *

The awkward standoff between Evan and Tammy persisted until the weekend. Neither spoke to the other, in class or out. They didn’t lunch or breakfast together, and at dinner they sat at opposite ends of their group of friends. Despite his Michelle-enforced evening off, schoolwork and the hippogriffs and Quidditch meant that Evan was kept very busy over the next few days. He could tell that his friends were uncomfortable about the situation and wary of taking sides, just like he had predicted to Michelle, and although he hated to cause the friction, he still wasn’t quite prepared to pretend that everything was fine. Tammy, for her part, was very quiet and kept her distance, and no matter that he was annoyed with her, he felt guilty for hurting his friend, too.

The freezing mornings culminated in a large dump of snow over Friday night that left two feet of snow on the grounds on Saturday morning and froze the lake solid. The seventh-years tried to focus on their homework, but the younger students took advantage of the bright sun to venture outside into the still, crisp air and mess around in the snow, and their cheerful yells and laughter - and the odd snowball hitting the common room windows - was massively distracting. Finally, Maxi was the one to cast down her quill and jump to her feet.

“Ah, bugger this! C’mon, let’s go and have some fun for a bit.”

“You go on, Maxi, I need to get this finished and then maybe I’ll come down and join you,” said Ravi, head down and still writing.

She reached over and plucked the quill out of his hand. “No, ya don’t! You’re coming, an’ the same goes for the rest of yers. I’m a prefect, so that’s an order, too!”

“Wow. She’s putting her foot down,” said Ravi, shaking out the cramp in his hand. “Mike, do something, mate, she’s _your_ girlfriend.”

Mike just sat back and folded his arms. “What sort o’ bloody fool do ya take me for? Now, get yer arse moving before she starts kicking it!”

“Bloody hell, she’s got you well trained, that’s for sure!” he grumbled, starting to gather up his notes and jam them into his bag.

Despite Ravi pretending to grouse, the others didn’t take too much persuading to grab hats and gloves and follow their prefects outside. The air was shockingly cold at first, burning in Evan’s lungs after the snug warmth of the common room, but he quickly got used to it, and the sharp, clean feeling was startlingly refreshing. A few people were building snowmen, and Mike, Maxi, Becky, and Chris made a beeline for the toboggan races down one of the more steeply-sloping parts of the lawn, but Michelle, Ravi, and Evan followed the path already trodden into the snow to where Vinu and Emma were charming the surface of the already-frozen lake until it was thick enough to bear their weight, while Jason Samuels was offering to transfigure people’s shoes into ice-skates. Evan wasn’t much of an ice-skater himself, wobbling slowly out onto the ice and ending up on his butt more than once, but he could watch Michelle tearing confidently around the lake all day.

“I’d forgotten she could skate like that,” a familiar voice said tentatively from behind him.

He looked back over his shoulder - and nearly ended up on his backside again. Tammy was teetering on her own skates not far behind him, and watching him with trepidation.

“Lots of messing around in Fridtjof’s Frictionless Boots when she was little, apparently,” he said, carefully turning to face her. “Her dad says she was a total nightmare on them, but they were, hands down, absolutely her favourite toy.” Tammy grinned at that, but it soon tapered off into uncertainty. “How’re you doing?”

She looked away and shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

There was an awkward silence. “I still don’t feel like apologising,” he said eventually. “But I would like to put it behind us. We’ve been friends for too long to fall out over a few words and a short temper on my part.”

“Me, too. And I probably _should_ apologise.” She was having trouble meeting his eyes. “It’s just that normally you don’t mind a bit of ragging.”

“Perhaps.” He eyed her steadily. “You think it’s a game to me? To us?”

She looked up, a little hurt. “No! Of course I don’t think that, but I just don’t understand-”

“_You don’t have to understand_.” He took a deep breath and forced himself to let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. But you don’t. No-one does.”

“Except you two.”

He said nothing, and this time it was his turn to look away. _Lets be honest, do I really understand this myself? What the hell _am_ I doing, here?_

Tammy leaned slightly to one side to look past him, and he looked back to see what had caught her eye in time to watch a grinning Michelle help a fourth-year boy back up onto his feet, and then glide effortlessly away from the busiest part of the ice to where she could skate sweeping, carefree curves. Her loose, dark hair streamed back from her face, her cheeks were glowing in the cold, and the sheer _joy_ on her face was open, radiant, captivating.

Tammy’s wistful voice jolted him out of his daze. “Merlin, she’s so pretty when she lets herself go like that.” She shook herself, and said in a brisker tone, “Anyway, it’s probably time for me to disappear before I kill myself on these things. I guess I’ll see you around.”

_This has gone on long enough, and I need to make the first move to put this right_. “Tammy? Hey. Come and have lunch with us later, yeah?”

She hesitated, then some of her usual smile came back. “I’ll do that. See you then.”

He spent some time trying to get used to skating, and could manage a steady, coasting slide, but never really felt comfortable turning or changing direction. _Give me a nice, safe broom over this any time_. Nearly being wiped out by Leah Harper, who had taken to the ice with more speed than skill, didn’t help his confidence. Michelle, however, looked like she was having a ball, zooming around on her own in between helping Emma and Jason teach the younger students the basics to get them started. He found it easiest to keep away from the bulk of the skaters and just drift along in the sunshine and think. It was surprisingly relaxing, and he found himself unwinding a little more, building on the night off Michelle had insisted on a few days before. _Maxi was right, we all needed this. I’m going to have to get back into it tomorrow, though, there’s far too much to do… but let’s not think about that, right now._

A snowball whizzed past his ear, startling him out of his thoughts, and he saw Ravi grinning at him from the shoreline, standing next to Vinu. He watched Vinu sigh and roll her eyes, but when she looked away, he was pretty sure that she was smothering a smile. _Ha ha, go, Ravi!_ He made a rude gesture and skated the short distance over to them, stepping off the ice and cancelling the transfiguration on his shoes.

“Are you starting, Singh?” he demanded in jokey menace.

Ravi held his hands up in surrender, “Who, me? No way, I’ve seen you guys with the Quaffle.”

He heaved a theatrical sigh, “I would have thought you’d be keeping an eye on him, Vinu.”

She grinned at him and, with a twitch of her wand, shoved a huge mass of snow down the back of Ravi’s collar, making him yelp in surprise and dance around trying to shake it out of his clothing. She turned to Evan with a raised eyebrow, and he chuckled.

“Well, that ought to do it, but he can be a slow learner, sometime.”

“Hey! What is this, pick on Ravi day?”

“All day,” Vinu said happily.

“Every day,” Evan agreed.

“This is so unfair!” he whined. “Michelle, do something!”

He turned and saw Michelle poised on the very edge of the lake. “What have you done now, Ravi?”

“Why do you immediately think this is my fault?”

“Experience?”

That made them laugh, but Michelle was slowly slipping back down the small slope that ran from the shore onto the main ice. She took a few, confident steps back up to the shore again and held up her hands to Evan, who caught them gently, providing an anchor. She grinned up at him, an absolutely heart-stopping smile on her face.

“Hi there, slowpoke!

He couldn’t resist returning her smile. “You look like you’re having fun out there.”

“I’d nearly forgotten how much fun this is! Loads better than being on a broom.”

He chuckled, “I was just thinking how much I prefer brooms to skates.”

“Well, I suppose you would, but-”

She was cut off in mid-sentence by a snowball smacking into her arm, and they both turned to glare at Ravi.

“It wasn’t me!” he wailed in exasperation.

And that left one obvious culprit, who was looking altogether too innocent. Michelle looked at Evan and stepped off the ice, turning her skates back into shoes, and Vinu let out a squeak of laughter and made a break for it. They charged after her, scooping up snow as they went and launching it at her.

The Ravenclaw girl preferred to charm her snowballs rather than throw them by hand, and she quickly hit Evan in the chest and leg, and whistled one past Michelle’s ear, before being hit flush on the back of the head. “Ravenclaws! Help!” she called, in a voice full of laughter, sliding to a stop and scooping up yet more snow. Michelle scored a hit on her shoulder, and then there was an attack from the left. Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein had come to Vinu’s aid, only to be ambushed in turn by Gwion, and soon a massive, general battle had broken out, with more and more students joining as they noticed the commotion. Initially, at least, the combatants were split along Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw lines, although the Gryffindors were mainly pro-Ravenclaw, but just when it looked like one side was getting the upper hand, there’d be an outbreak of treachery that kept the fight going. Teams of friends were racing in all directions, taking cover, making raids on one target or other, and generally having a blast.

It was a long time before the battle petered out, mainly due to tiredness and the cold and having ‘got’ everyone they wanted to, although that didn’t stop the Gryffindors from claiming victory. No-one, not even themselves, could agree on what exactly that victory was, but they claimed it nonetheless and were prepared to fight anyone that said otherwise. Evan and Michelle charmed each other dry and left them to it before there was a resumption of hostilities.

“I saw you talk to Tammy, earlier,” Michelle said tentatively, as they set out for the castle.

“Yeah. I think we understand each other a little better, now.”

A small smile broke out. “That’s good.”

_She’s probably relieved. After all, she has to room with Tammy_. “We might see her at lunch, too.”

“Hey, wait up!”

They looked back to see Chris and Ravi jogging after them.

“Had enough, have you?” asked Ravi. “Man, that was wicked fun!”

“I certainly wouldn't mind warming up a bit, and it must be getting on for lunchtime, too,” said Michelle. “Does anyone know what the time is?”

“I don’t know, but it must be thereabouts, I’m absolutely starving!”

“I think it’s all the fresh air,” said Chris. “Well, that and the racing around like idiots. Did you see Mike and Maxi against the Weasley twins? A Beaters’ contest with snow rather than Bludgers!”

The Great Hall rang with many similar conversations, and they found huge, steaming tureens of soup waiting for them on the Hufflepuff table, a perfect way to warm up after a morning in the snow. Michelle sat on one side of Evan as usual, but when Tammy appeared, she took a deep breath and found the other seat next to him. All it took was a smile and a “Hi, Tammy!”, and just like that, things were back to normal again. It was both a relief and slightly depressing to see the shadow lift from his other friends, too, at seeing a reconciliation, and he pondered that while he ate.

Finally, he pushed away his empty plate and said, “Hey. If everyone’s finished, um… there’s something I want to ask you all about.”

The smiles and good cheer amongst his friends faded into puzzlement at his tone.

“And I’m assuming it’s not the sort of thing ya want ter talk about out here, then?” said Mike cautiously.

“Not really, no.”

Mike exchanged a look with his girlfriend. “Aye, then. Well, everyone finished? How about the dorms?”

They passed through the deserted Hufflepuff common room and filed into the boys’ dorm, and Evan closed the door behind them. He saw the others exchange looks at that precaution, too, although it was Chris who asked the question.

“So what did you want to talk to everyone about, Evan?”

“Sorry for the build up, I guess. And I’m sorry for bringing this up now, too, but… well, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Have to do it sometime, I suppose.” He paused to collect himself, and said, “Christmas is coming up, and… and I thought maybe we ought to send something to the Diggorys.”

There was a sudden stillness in the room.

“I know it’ll be their first Christmas without him, and...,” Evan shrugged uncomfortably. “I just thought we should.”

A long silence stretched out until Maxi broke it. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I was going to send a card, but... I dunno, what do you say?” Ravi added awkwardly.

“That we miss him, too, and we’re all thinking of them,” said Becky firmly, her eyes bright. “You’re right, Evan, we should definitely do that.”

“As a group? Or should we all send something individually?” he asked.

Becky sat a little taller, rubbing her nose quickly. “I think as a group, unless anyone objects? That’s not to say anyone can’t send a card as well, of course.”

“Works for me,” Chris said quietly.

Mike looked over at Maxi, who nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Me, too,” said Tammy.

Evan looked over at Michelle, who was looking at him with shining eyes. He raised an eyebrow in query, and she nodded.

“OK, then. Now we just have to work out what to get them. I mean, we can all chip in to cover costs, but I don’t think we need to go mad. It’s more about the gesture.”

“Leave it with me. I’ve got a few ideas, but I’ll have to check a few things next Hogsmeade weekend,” Becky said decisively.

“Thanks, Becky,” said Evan. “I’ve got to admit, I’m a bit like Ravi. I knew I wanted to do something, I just wasn’t sure what.”

Becky cracked a smile that wavered a bit, nonetheless. “So you thought good old Becky will take care of it?”

He felt himself smile in return. “Well, you offered, don’t forget!”

“Yeah, I suppose I did. Just for that, though, maybe I’ll make the rest of you come and carry my bags while I do all the hard work.”

The laughter was a little forced, but it did break the sombre mood. The others looked relaxed and a bit more cheerful again, heading back to the common room, but he noticed the tension in Michelle’s shoulders, her head down. He followed her over to the fire, a short distance away from the others.

“All right, Michelle?” he asked softly.

She nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “Wanna go for a walk? I feel like getting out of the common room for a while.”

He was pretty sure it was more than that, but didn’t hesitate to agree. “Sure.”

They grabbed their cloaks and headed out of the common room, climbing the stairs to the Entrance Hall in an unhurried manner. He paused when the reached the top, but Michelle continued on to the Grand Staircase, and he followed her up to a long, third-floor corridor that caught the afternoon sun even in winter, tall columns of light streaming in from windows that looked out across the back of the castle. He recognised where she was leading him, and sure enough, they came to a large, semi-circular room where the corridor ended in the belly of a small corner tower. It was quiet and seldom-used, and the corridor that ran off at ninety degrees to the first ended in an old classroom that hadn’t been used in many years. Michelle stopped on the far side of the little room, looking out of a tall arrow-slit with her hand resting on the old stone frame.

“Are you OK?”

She nodded wordlessly, then turned around. His heart twisted to see the uncertainty and loss on her face and reflected in her pretty, dark eyes. Suddenly, he realised what she needed, and he stepped closer to her even as her arms came up and slid around him. He wrapped his arms around her in turn, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly, her cheek resting against his collar bone. She didn’t speak, so he was content to just hold her and let time stretch away unmarked.

Finally, he felt a shift in her body, as if some of the tension in the way she was holding herself drained away.

“I did wonder if I should bring that up,” he said experimentally. He felt her arms tighten.

“No, you were right, and we should do something for Cedric’s family, it’s just... I guess I hadn’t quite realised that it is Christmas coming up for _them_, too, if you know what I mean, and it’ll be their first one without him.”

“Yeah.”

“And... and suddenly, it doesn’t feel like six months has gone past, you know? And I feel bad for not thinking of them sooner. And-”

She cut herself off abruptly, and he prompted her to continue. “And?”

She swallowed, and looked up at him. “I realised that you probably have a pretty good idea what they’re feeling.”

He tensed a little. He couldn’t help it, and hated that Michelle felt it and jumped in with apologies.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that!”

“It’s OK, Michelle, I think we know each other pretty well by now.” He stroked her back reassuringly, the wool of her cloak rough under his hand. “This sort of stuff is hardly the end of the world.”

“Still,” she said, unwilling to concede the point entirely. She was silent for a while before asking in a gentle voice, “Do you miss him? At Christmas time?”

Evan hesitated, trying to find the words to express himself. “Yes and no. Yes, because it’s a family time, and I know that Dad ought to be there with us. But at the same time, I don’t really have any memory of him. I guess I miss the _idea _of my dad, but not the _person_, if you know what I mean?”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide with sympathy and sincerity. “I’m sorry, Evan.”

“I know Mum does, and it’s things like Christmas and birthdays and the like that are the worst. She misses him every day, but it’s the special occasions when it cuts a bit deeper because he’s not there. The Diggorys? I don’t know how they’re adjusting to the idea that Cedric isn’t coming home any more, but I’m pretty sure their Christmas is going to be a miserable one.” He sighed, “Just as long as we’re not making it worse by sending them something. I’m still not convinced it’s a great idea.”

She chewed her lip for a moment. “I think they’ll appreciate it if it’s done the right way. A big song-and-dance would really hurt because it sort of shoves it in their faces. I think something simple and sincere will hurt a little at first, but they’ll come to appreciate it. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Let’s hope.”

“Becky will get the right thing, I know she will. She has a knack for getting the right gifts. And we’ll be with her, won’t we? I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

She blew out another deep, steadying breath, and this time he let her go and she took a half-step back, looking up at him with her lip caught between her teeth and the sunlight striking caramel tones in her dark hair. He shook himself out of it, sure he was staring at her, but couldn’t resist a smile, all the same.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah. Sorry for being such a wet blanket-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Michelle.”

That made her smile. “Shall we continue our walk? I don’t really feel like going back to the common room just yet.”

“Why not? I think I’ve probably had enough messing around in the snow for one day, too.”

They retraced their steps to the Grand Staircase, then along the landing and past the massive door of the corridor that had been closed off during their third year.

“Hey, Evan?” she said softly. He looked over, but she was focused determinedly straight ahead. “Thanks.”

Without breaking stride, he reached out an arm and gave her a quick squeeze around the shoulders. Nothing more needed to be said.


	11. Meet The Hippogriffs

With the end of term in sight, their classes had begun to focus heavily on revision of the year so far. It wasn’t all bad news, however, as the first signs of Christmas were also beginning to make their appearance. Professor Flitwick turned their lessons towards charming and enchanting origami swans to glow and flutter, awarding points for the neatness of the folding and the most creative use of colour-changing, levitation, light, and motion spells. Individually, they were relatively simple, but layering them together to make the swans swim realistically across their desks or flutter around the room, glowing gently in iridescent colours, was quite a challenge. To no-one’s surprise, Evan got the hang of it quickly, but Michelle wasn’t far behind him, much to her quiet satisfaction and Vinu and Megan’s good-natured disappointment. Professor Sprout had them growing holly from small cuttings to make up the castle’s Christmas decorations, and even Professor McGonagall nearly cracked a smile during a lesson. The interminable boredom of Defence continued, however, for all that the Professor Umbridge entered into the spirit of things by adding tinsel and a number of pictures to her classroom walls. Doe-eyed kittens with Santa hats perched precariously over one ear chased each other clumsily through the frames and batted at ribbons and tumbled over each other. It was generally agreed that the Weasley twins’ remarkable display of synchronised vomiting was the only sensible reaction possible, even if they had to see out their Friday lesson with the faint but unmistakable smell of puke in the air.

When they stepped outside at the end of class, Mike took a deep, cleansing breath of the clean air and sighed happily. “Smell that? Freedom, that’s what that is.”

“One week - _one week_ \- to go, and then it’s Christmas hols,” Maxi agreed. “It can’t come soon enough!”

“Unless the teachers go mad in the last week, I think it’ll be OK,” Mike said, slinging an arm around his girlfriend.

“Well, that’s the kiss of death on that!” Ravi snorted, making them laugh.

Chris wasn’t feeling so optimistic, and puffed out his cheeks. “I don’t know about you, but it’s not going to be much of a break. I reckon I’m going to spend most of it doing homework, at this rate.”

“Cheer up, Chris!” said Maxi, slugging him on the arm with her free hand. “It’s Hogsmeade tomorrow, and no, you’re not allowed to spend it chained to a desk, slaving. I’ll not let ya!”

That made him smile. “Well, I’m certainly not going to fight about it.”

Michelle grinned to herself, her eyes darting over to her best friend. She still had to get his Christmas present, and that would mean ditching him for at least a little while to collect it - assuming the order had come in, of course. Then it was simply a matter of smuggling it back to the castle and her dorm where she could work on it in privacy. _And I get to see him unwrap it on Christmas day!_ The thought put a spring in her step on the way back to the common room.

Saturday dawned late and very cold, under a relentless grey sky that seemed to reach the ground in places, mist clinging to the hollows around the lake and under the trees of the Forbidden Forest. They wrapped up warmly and made the long walk down to the village as a group, but split up individually as soon as they reached the High Street. It became something of a game, ducking into doorways and pretending to sneak past each other. Of course, perhaps you already _had_ that person’s Christmas present, but that was no reason to give the game away.

Her shopping was done and safely tucked into her bag by the time they met up for lunch. She found herself sitting next to Evan by force of habit in the Three Broomsticks, and while they waited for their lunch to arrive she couldn’t resist leaning close to ask in a confidential tone, “So… have you got my Christmas present yet?”

He just grinned at her, his smile making her breath hitch. “What makes you think I bought you anything?”

She giggled, nudging his shoulder playfully. “How rude! And I took you for a gentleman!”

She heard a snicker, and looked up to see Tammy watching them from across the table, her hand clamped over her mouth. Becky was watching them, too, and made no attempt to hide her amusement. “Oh, get a room, you two!”

Normally, that would have made her blush, but instead she simply laughed. Her good mood was too buoyant for her to be embarrassed. “That’s enough, Becky, or I’m returning yours after lunch!”

“Ha! I hope you kept the receipt.”

They kept teasing each other on and off through lunch, and lingered in the warmth despite the noisy, cheerful crowd that nearly overflowed out of the pub. The village was as pretty as a postcard, wreathed in snow, Christmas lights twinkling gently in the windows, and the faint scent of wood smoke in the air, but it was _cold_ and no-one wanted to be outside for long_._ They couldn’t stay all afternoon, however, and they still had to help Becky to find Christmas gifts for Cedric’s parents. Tammy suggested the peppermint humbugs that were a favourite of Mr. Diggory, and Chris picked out some rare, enchanted inks for Mrs. Diggory, who did the most beautiful calligraphy, and so they went from shop to shop, building up a basket of small items. Michelle made one last stop at Pippin’s for some lavender and whortleberry bath salts and foot lotion that she remembered always seeing in the Diggorys’ bathroom, and then they could turn for the castle and the prospect of their warm, snug common room.

“I hope that’s everything,” said Mike, as they trudged past the station, feet slipping a little on the path where the snow had partially melted and re-frozen into ice.

“It should be,” said Becky. “I bought a card earlier, so all we have to do is get it signed, and I’ll post everything when we get back to London.”

There was a general chorus of thanks.

“Brilliant!”

“Thanks, Becky!”

“That’s great!”

Becky sighed happily, pretending to preen and fluff her hair. “Carry on, you lot, I could listen to this all day.”

Ravi stopped and turned to her, clasping both her hands in his with a soppy look on his face. “Becky… has anyone told you you’re beautiful, today?” he said, in an overwrought voice.

To her shock, Becky turned rather red. “…No?”

Ravi smiled gently, letting her go. “Well, there’s always tomorrow.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, before they all broke down into whoops of raucous laughter.

“Oh, you utter…!” Becky gaped at him, outrage mingling with shock and amusement, and then she bent down and there was a loud _‘Thwock!_’ as her snowball hit that rapidly-retreating Ravi in the middle of the chest. As she scooped up another handful of snow and advanced towards him, Ravi shoved the bag containing all their gifts into Chris’ arms and turned and made a break for it, Becky in hot pursuit.

“Run, Ravi! She’s gonna get you for that!” Mike shouted after them.

“And you’ll deserve it, too!” Maxi added, through her laughter.

“_Get back here, you pig!_”

“_Help! Murder! Deranged midget on the loose!_”

“Midget_?! I’ll give you- Argh! Damn it, stand still, you twat!_”

“Shouldn’t we stop them?” Chris asked, once he had his breath back.

“Nah, I’m not messing with Becky when she’s on a rampage,” said Tammy.

“Ravi got himself into this, he knew what he was doing,” Mike added emphatically.

“Sometimes, I think that boy gets himself in over his head,” said Maxi. “Like this time - she’s going ter kill him!”

“Never fear, me dear, she has ter catch him first. Ravi’s faster than he looks.”

Michelle said nothing, but grinned quietly to herself. Ravi could always be relied on to make things fun, even if he had to make himself the butt of the joke. Becky might well chase him, but the snowball fight at the end would be epic - and a huge amount of fun. On an impulse, she scooped up a handful of snow, patting it into shape, and bit her lip in anticipation. Her target was a few steps ahead and on the other side of Maxi, and he didn’t seem to notice her preparations. _Well, that won’t do_.

“Evan?”

He looked over at her, and her snowball went high and got him smack on the forehead. He stumbled back, blinking in surprise at the unexpected attack.

She took a few, cautious steps backwards, trying to hold in her laughter. “Hi!”

He wiped his eyes with a fierce, rather predatory, grin, reaching down to scoop up his own ammunition. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

Maxi scrambled out of the way, laughing, but she was already bolting for Hogwarts, her bag bouncing roughly on her back. A snowball hit her right on the backside, making her yelp, and she snatched up more snow and side-armed it wildly behind her without even really aiming, just to keep him off, then ducked off the path and pelted through the trees. Her heart pounding, she skidded to a halt behind a birch and peered cautiously back the way she’d come, only for a snowball to explode against the trunk, spraying her with snow and making her flinch. _There he is_! This time, her return fire hit him on the arm, and then she was off again, laughing wildly. They stalked each other through the little copse of trees and then raced between hillocks and startled groups of returning students, who shouted either encouragement or outrage at them - and, in a few cases, added their own snowballs to the melee. Not far from the Hogwarts gates, Michelle reached a familiar, towering oak tree and took cover. Panting hard, she looked back up the path, and… where was he? _Where… he was just by the old milestone a second ago, he-_

_Whomph_!

A massive ball of powdery snow landed on the top of her head, making her squeal in surprise. She could hear his laughter, but the snow had gone down the back of her collar and _Merlin’s sainted underpants, that’s c- c- c- c- _bloody freezing! “_Evan_!” she wailed in outrage, frantically hauling the tails of her shirt out and trying to shake out the snow.

He popped up surprisingly close by, grinning innocently. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I not allowed to get you back?”

“That was cheating!” she protested, squirming at the icy rivulets that ran down her back. She pulled her wand surreptitiously, trying to gather up a mass of snow behind him and return the favour.

“Was not!”

“I can’t believe you did that!”

“Neither can I. _Finite_!”

The snow fell in a heap just behind him, and she couldn’t restrain a growl of frustration.

“Now who’s cheating?” he asked, stalking slowly towards her with a big grin. “Does that mean it’s my turn?”

She turned and sprinted for the gates. “You have to catch me first,” she called over her shoulder.

She could hear him pounding after her, and she was almost at the gates and safety when she heard another, unexpected voice.

“_Glaciculus!”_

Suddenly, the churned-up snow became a slick sheet of ice. She had to flail for balance and managed to get her feet back under herself just in time, but she heard a heavy impact and a grunt of pain behind her. Still sliding, she glanced back to see Evan tumbling across the path and crashing into the snow around the base of a nearby shrub.

“_Finite incantatum!_”

Her spell turned the ice back to slush and her feet plunged through the suddenly-soft surface and tripped her up, sending her sprawling on her hands and knees, her wand flying out of her hand. She heard mocking laughter.

“How appropriate. Down there in the _mud_, where you belong.”

Cassius Warrington sneered at her as he sauntered past, flanked by Miles Bletchley and Graham Montague, his usual side-kicks. Flushing, she scrambled to her feet only to get knocked on her backside again by a flick of Bletchley’s wand.

“Merlin, you’ve never learned your place, have you?” He spat at the ground in front of her. “_Filth_.”

Shame and humiliation burned through her, and a feeling of helplessness so intense that she could almost taste the sour, acid panic that came hard on its heels. _My wand…! Where… but I…!_

“_Oi! Piss off and leave her alone!_”

What was worse was that they didn’t even give her a second glance, or bother to acknowledge Evan’s angry roar, they just walked, almost strutted, through the gates and onto the Hogwarts grounds. She looked down at her lap, painfully aware of her soaked, muddy trousers and the way her legs were starting to ache from the cold. She was already shivering, too, although not all from the cold, and she could hear heavy footsteps hurrying closer, and the panting breaths they belonged to. She didn’t look up. Who else would it be?

“Are you all right?”

His voice was quiet and gentle and caring, and she felt a childish urge to snap at him, to lash out at his kindness, but she managed to strangle it down. “Fine.”

She heard a quiet sigh, and then his hands appeared in front of her, palms up expectantly. She swallowed, and put her hands in his and let him help her to her feet. There was no point taking it out on him. She began to rummage half-heartedly through the snow for her wand.

“What are you looking for?”

“My wand,” she muttered.

“_Accio_.” A quiet word, and it came flying up out of the snow-covered undergrowth at the side of the path. _I could have looked for that forever and not seen it_. He handed it to her, then charmed her clothes dry without a word. She felt a sort of despair. _Useless without it, and not much use when I did have it, was I?_

They set off in silence back towards the castle, and she tried to tell herself to buck up and stop feeling so wretched. It didn't help. Abruptly, she realised that his footsteps sounded uneven, and looked over at him. He was limping and had dark lines of scratches on his face, too, and his lip was swollen and bleeding on one side. “Evan, you’re…”

She touched her own face tentatively to point out what she meant, and when he touched his lip, he jerked his head away with a small grunt of surprise. He bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, pressing it to his injury.

“You took quite a tumble.”

He gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll be all right. I banged my knee pretty hard, and then I got a face full of tree. Nothing to worry about.”

She looked at him uncertainly but couldn’t decide what to say, so simply let it go. Maybe fifty yards further on and with the castle looming invitingly ahead of them, he lowered his hand and tossed the reddened snow away. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, but it was difficult to see in the growing darkness.

“We’re going to the hospital wing.”

“Really? It’s just a bit of a-”

She cut him off with a warning look, and he raised his eyebrows but subsided.

The Entrance Hall was the usual, milling chaos as everyone tried to get out of the cold and warm up, stamp the snow off without Filch having an aneurysm, and get their names marked off on the register. She tried to smother her impatience, but when she spotted Elizabeth Nott and Anastasia Halkett watching them from the corner, she found herself suddenly standing much closer to Evan. He must have noticed, although he didn’t say anything, merely shuffled forward with the rest of the queue when it moved. A touch on her back made her jump, but it was only Evan trying to tell her to go ahead of him. Professor Vector ticked them off the list, and then they could head for the stairs and the Hospital Wing.

If the busy Entrance Hall was to be expected, the number of students loitering around in the Hospital Wing was not. There were a few obvious bruises, someone with a beard of tentacles, and one Ravenclaw girl cradling her wrist, but what was most striking was their ages. Nearly all of them were second-year or below. Nearly all of them wore blue- or yellow-trimmed robes.

“Laura, are you all right?”

Evan had found a second-year Hufflepuff girl kicking her feet glumly on the hard chairs in the waiting area. the one that had been sitting with him at Halloween.

The little blonde girl looked up at him briefly, then looked away. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just waiting for Kevin, that’s all.”

“What happened?”

“He tripped, I guess. I think he sprained his ankle pretty badly, so me and Elanor and Stewart brought him up here.”

“Huh. And did he have any help in tripping?” Evan asked, looking pointedly around the other waiting patients. Laura just shrugged and said nothing.

_It’s the same as just happened to us_, Michelle thought bleakly. _Maybe not Bletchley and his mates, but someone just like them. And with us older students away, the younger ones would have been sitting targets._

“Next, please!”

The younger students looked around at each other, and the Ravenclaw girl still holding her wrist got slowly to her feet and set off for the Matron’s Office.

A minute later, Kevin appeared from out of a curtained bed space, and made a beeline for Laura. He still had a slight limp, but apart from a sour expression seemed otherwise all right.

“All right, Kevin?” Evan asked quietly.

“Yeah,” the boy grumbled, his jaw jutting belligerently. Laura got to her feet and went as if to take his arm, then hesitated and dropped her hand again, and Michelle felt a twinge of kinship with the girl. _She cares, but not in front of everyone else. Not yet. Maybe not ever? Or maybe?_

Evan glanced around, conscious of the other students watching them. “You know, we’re going to have to have a talk about this later,” he said finally. “See you in the common room, and be careful on the stairs with that ankle.”

Kevin nodded half-heartedly and went out, Laura close by his side. Evan watched them go, then let out a breath through his nostrils and conjured a pair of chairs for them to join the waiting queue.

Gradually, the younger students were seen and left in ones and twos until they were the only ones remaining. Madam Pomfrey walked out of her office, wiping her hands on a towel, and after a glance at Michelle, looked at him expectantly.

“Another one.” The matron gave him a rather odd look. “Let me guess. You fell.”

“Something like that, yes.”

Michelle heard a small, disgruntled huff. “Come along, then.”

Evan levered himself out of his chair, wincing as his leg took his weight, and limped after the nurse, leaving Michelle on her own. In the silence of the empty infirmary, the memory of sitting in the freezing mud, humiliation burning in her cheeks, came flooding back, and she felt another angry spike of resentment. _It would be bloody, _bloody_ Bletchley, too, wouldn’t it? How can I let him make me feel so weak, so… worthless? And I _am_ letting him, aren’t I? I know better than to care what he thinks. For Merlin’s sake, I’m an adult, I should be stronger now! I’m _better_ than this!_

She looked up at the sound of footsteps, and saw Evan and the nurse were already done. The marks on his face were gone, and he was walking freely.

“Try not to have any more mysterious falls. There seems to be an awful lot of them around, today,” Madam Pomfrey was saying.

Evan gave her a faint smile, stopping in front of Michelle. “I’ll do my best. Are you sure you’re all right, Michelle? You did take a bit of a-”

“Don’t bloody baby me, Evan!” she snapped before she could stop herself. He looked at her in shock, and she felt another rush of shame at seeing the hurt briefly flicker across his face. Even the nurse looked surprised at her outburst. He swallowed, and moved on like it hadn’t happened, and that made her feel even worse.

“Thanks, Madam Pomfrey, we’ll get out of your hair.”

Reluctantly, she took his outstretched hand and let him pull her to her feet. She was so ashamed of her reaction that she almost couldn’t bring herself to walk out with him, and only the thought that it would make things even worse stopped her from simply running back to the common room without him.

When they reached the common room, he went straight over to Mike and Maxi, who were perched on a sofa right by the fire. Maxi was sitting in her boyfriend’s lap, but they both looked up as he approached.

“Hey, guys. I think I need to talk to you about something prefect-ish. You got a minute?”

“Ah, there ya are. Where did you two disappear off to?”

“Or shouldn’t we ask,” said Maxi, with a broad grin and a wink.

“Well, that’s part of the story,” he said. The Irish duo exchanged a look at his tone, then Maxi shifted her legs and slid off Mike’s lap, and he took a seat beside them and leaned closer. He quickly told them what they had found up in the hospital wing, although he glossed over why he was there, which Michelle was grateful for. “I don’t know if this was just a one-off or if it’s the start of something, or what. It just doesn’t seem like a coincidence that it happened when we’re all out of the way.”

Maxi scowled fiercely. “Yer right, an’ there’s been a bit too much of this sort o’ thing, recently. Who was it ya saw up there?”

“Kevin Whitby and Laura Madley, for starters, and…”

Feeling redundant, dirty, and cold, Michelle left them to it and headed for her dorm room and a hot shower. _They don’t need me for this. They don’t need me? Oh stop it, you melodramatic, pathetic ass! Honestly, why am I so, so… _pathetic_, today? _And_ I already used that word. The absolute state of me, all over a few rude words._

Becky said ‘Hi’ cheerfully enough, but Michelle just mumbled a vague reply and put her head down, hurrying into the bathroom and shutting the door. Shutting out the perpetual presence of everyone else, to where she could have some quiet time on her own. She sat on the loo and ran her hands through her hair, pulling it out of its tail and combing it through with her fingers. _I know what Bletchley’s like. I know better than to listen to anything he comes out with, so why am I being so bloody wet about it? For Merlin’s sake, toughen up! I know my friends don’t believe any of that garbage, and neither should I._

She continued to lecture herself while she stripped off and set the shower running, but by the time she’d finished bathing, she still wasn’t sure it had had much effect. That only added to the vague sense of depression. Glumly, she went out to her dorm and dressed. Becky was still there, lying on her bed and reading a book, and she looked up when Michelle walked in.

“All right, Michelle?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, going over to her chest of drawers and hunting out some clean clothes. She was still trying to work out what to say next when Becky threw down her book and swung her legs off her bed, a small crease of irritation between her eyebrows, and stalked out without a word. Michelle felt her mood plunge even lower. _That’s not what I wanted, either!_

She dressed hurriedly, hoping to catch her friend and explain - somehow. In the corridor from her dorm, she was about to step out into the common room when she heard Becky’s voice, and stopped.

“Hey Evan, what’s going on with Michelle? She’s in a real mood at the moment.”

She heard him sigh. “We had a bit of a run-in with Montague’s morons right before we got back. I think it’s shaken her up a bit.”

Becky let out a grunt of disgust. “You two were so cute together today, and-”

“Becky, don’t start,” he said tiredly.

“I know, I know, but you were. And she’s been really cheerful recently, and much more confident, too. Until now. She’d barely even look at me, just now.”

“She’ll be all right, she just needs a bit of time to herself to work things out in her head. I think. I hope.”

“Well, she’d better.”

She heard him sigh again, and say in a lower voice, “I don’t think she’s all that happy with me at the moment, either. Look after her, yeah? She needs someone to talk to, and I don’t think it’s going to be me.”

“Then she’s a bloody idiot. Honestly, she’ll listen to pillocks like Montague and his goons over someone like you?”

She felt a spike of anger and stalked out into the common room. Her two friends were near the entrance, Evan sitting in an armchair and Becky standing next to him. Evan caught sight of her first, and winced. Becky, seeing his reaction, turned also.

“Oh, bollocks. Michelle, look-”

“No, don’t worry. I’m too bloody stupid to understand, I’m sure,” she said, glaring at her, but Becky was not going to be cowed.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

“Do you know, I was just trying to work out what to say to you when you walked out on me? ‘Cause it wasn’t easy. And I have had a really, _really_ crappy day, so how about you cut me a bit of slack?”

Becky’s combative looked softened a little, and she chewed on the inside of her lip briefly. “You know, I’m going to make myself really unpopular here. You did _not_ have a crappy day. I know, ‘cause I watched you have an absolutely great time with Evan - and the rest of us, too. Don’t let whatever Montague’s gang did spoil that, OK? And I know that might be easier said than done, but it’s true. Think about it.”

“Becky-” she began, but her blonde friend was already walking off, leaving her with Evan and a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Why do I just keep buggering everything up, today?” she said plaintively, half to herself.

Evan touched her hand, drawing her attention. He was watching her cautiously. “Tammy’s going to bring her wireless out for the late game tonight, Portree and the Kestrels,” he said, almost experimentally. “Why don’t you join us? Just to get your mind off things. Maybe it’ll help.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll do that. Evan, I’m sorry, all right? Maybe you’re right and I need a bit more time.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Just don’t forget we’re your mates, and if you need anything, we want to help. You know where I am,” he added softly.

After dinner, she spent an hour and a half working on her Herbology homework in her dorm rather than go out into the common room. She knew it was sort of being sulky, but even knowing that, she really didn’t feel like being social. She had to force herself to slink out in time for the quarter to eight Quaffle-up and join the large knot of students around Tammy’s wireless in one corner of the common room. Becky gave her a rather strange, neutral look as she slid in next to Chris and Maxi, but she got a quick arm around the shoulder from the Irish girl and a small smile from Evan. Despite her volatile mood, it was still nice to sit quietly in the company of her friends and just feel included.

* * * * *

Michelle woke early the next morning, and dressed hurriedly in the chilly room before leaving her roommates sleeping. The common room was sparsely populated, but she said ‘Hi’ to Belinda Cartwright and Tatiana Zulianus from fourth-year and they talked for a few minutes until the barrels opened and a sweaty-looking Evan appeared. Belinda and Tati giggled and nudged each other when he said ‘Good morning’, and they quickly slipped away, casting insinuating looks at her.

He watched them go with a raised eyebrow. “Clearly, I smell worse than usual, this morning.”

“Err… oh. Um, morning.” _Oh, dear Merlin, I am the smoothest, slickest girl ever_. Thankfully, he filled the awkward silence.

“It looks like it might be a half-decent day once the sun gets up, but I tell you what, it’s bloody cold out there.”

“That’s good.”

He gave her a small smile, ignoring the awkwardness. “Well, I need to have a quick shower, but do you feel like breakfast after that, seeing as you’re already up and dressed?”

“Sure.”

He set off for his dorm, leaving her to try to pull herself together while she tended some of the marching agapanthus that Leah had been trying to encourage in one of the window boxes. She wasn't sure that she’d succeeded on either front when he reappeared, this time in jeans and a rather battered grey jersey, and they went up to the Great Hall.

She couldn't think of anything to say after her ungracious song-and-dance the previous afternoon, and although he didn’t bring it up in some ways that made it worse, because it was still _there_ and she felt like she ought to address it somehow while they found cereal and passed the milk and all the other pointless little mealtime civilities.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday,” she muttered eventually. It was completely inadequate and didn’t explain anything, of course, but it was at least _something_.

Evan hesitated, then put down his spoon. “I know you were pissed off, but like I said, I’m on your side, remember?” he said softly.

She had trouble meeting his eyes, and not just for the usual reasons. “I know.”

He let out a quiet sigh. “If there’s anything I can do that’ll help, or if you want to talk about it, just let me know, OK?”

She swallowed, her throat unexpectedly full. Why _am I reacting like this? It’s Evan, I already knew he’d say these sorts of things. He’s my best friend. Merlin, I’m such a disaster at the moment. _“Thanks.”

He looked at her steadily for a few seconds, then resumed eating. She both blessed and cursed the companionable silence.

They had both finished and were really just taking their time over their tea when he cast an appraising eye up at the facsimile of the sky in the ceiling of the Great Hall for a moment, weighing up the slowly-lightening darkness overhead.

“Is there anything you wanted to do today? Maybe we should get out of here and do something while the weather holds.”

Being away from the school and everything else sounded rather good. _Especially if it’s just us. But not like that! Except, um, yeah, like that would be…_ She shook herself. “Um… well, I did say that I’d like to see the hippogriffs sometime. Do you think we could?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t really need to be down there today, but there’s no reason not to, so it’s probably as good a time as any.”

“Oh, OK. When do you think we could go?”

He glanced up at the ceiling again, “This morning? It’s supposed to rain again later, and if we put it off too long then it won’t be light enough later in the afternoon.”

“I can’t wait for the days to start getting longer again. Just let me get something warmer on first.”

“I ought to do the same, probably, it’s bloody freezing out there. See you back here in a bit?”

“OK, then.”

She took rather longer than necessary to pull on another jumper and get her scarf and cloak, trying to work out why she was so excited. _Oh, Merlin, I really am all over the place, today. What’s wrong with me? _Finally dressed for the outside, she found him leaning against the arm of an armchair in the common room, cloak and gloves already on, and his broom clutched loosely in one hand. When he saw her, he simply gave her a small smile and they set off.

Stepping out of the Entrance Hall was a shocking plunge into the full bite of winter. Snow still blanketed the grounds, and the sun was only reluctantly creeping above the horizon.

“Hmm. It’s a lot easier if we fly, but I’ve only got my broom here,” he said, his breath pluming in the air. “I’ll go and get you a school broom, I suppose. Otherwise, I’d have to double you down to the stadium.”

“We haven’t done that in years. D’you reckon we’d still fit?”

He chuckled, “Just about. There’s one way to find out, I suppose. Are you ready? He swung a leg over his broom and looked expectantly at her over his shoulder, and she felt a sudden swoop. _I didn’t quite expect him to just say ‘oh right, hop on then!’_. There was no easy way of backing out, though, so she climbed on behind him and put her arms around his waist like they were both second-years again, exploring the woods behind Cedric’s house in a summer that had seemed at once endless and over all too soon.

“All right back there? Let’s go, then.”

The broom wobbled alarmingly as it rose, and her grip tightened convulsively. She was _very_ aware of being pressed up against his broad back, her thighs on either side of him and pressing against his butt.

“Whoops, sorry about that! I think we’re a bit too big to do this, these days.”

“Now you tell me!” she said breathlessly.

He grinned at her over his shoulder. “Good job it’s only a short distance. It’ll be OK, just hang on tight. Not _that _tight, Michelle!”

“Sorry!”

She closed her eyes and buried her face against his back, hoping that the frigid slipstream might take some of the heat out of her cheeks. If there was a reason to be grateful, he flew steadily and rather slowly, and there were no turns or sudden dives. Soon enough - too soon? - it was over, and he touched down gently outside the storage room at the back of the Quidditch stadium.

“It’s OK, you can let go, now.”

His voice was filled with amusement, but all the blood thundered back into her cheeks, and her hands leapt off his waist as if they’d been hit with a stinging spell. He swept the broom out from underneath them and turned to her. There was a strange look on his face for a moment, one that made her eyes widen, then he abruptly turned away.

“Right - school broom. Back in a minute.”

His voice was rather gruff, and once he was out of sight she leaned against a nearby supporting beam and waited for her legs to steady. _It’s just from the flying_, she told herself firmly._ It’s… oh, like hell it is!_

He was back a few minutes later, seemingly back to his normal self again, carrying a well-worn broom with a sadly-abbreviated tail of twigs.

“Here, you can fly mine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. The school brooms are a bit moth-eaten, and there’s not much to choose from. This old Comet will probably fly the best out of all of them if I can get it going.”

She took a deep breath. “Let’s see what I remember, then. Up!”

His broom leapt into her hand, but when he tried the same thing, the ratty Comet barely twitched. He grimaced, and reached over and picked it up again. “Sorry, this one’s a bit of a-” He whacked the tail a few times against his leg, then tried again, and this time, the broom came to a steady hover at mounting-height. “That’s better. All set? Right, follow me.”

They skimmed over the snowy ground, side by side, and she was again grateful that he didn’t go particularly high or fast, although once they looped around the castle, they had to climb to clear the trees. Soaring out over the gorge gave her a nasty frisson for a moment, the sudden sense of depth and the jagged black rocks peering up through their snowy blankets, but soon enough, he was leading her down into a little clearing.

“The hippogriff paddocks are just through the trees, but we’ll stop here. They’re flying predators, and they don’t take kindly to interlopers in their airspace, if you see what I mean. They’d probably be fine, ‘cos these ones live right by the castle and they’re used to seeing people on brooms, but why antagonise them if we don’t have to? It’s polite to come in on the ground, and hippogriffs are nothing if not focused on hierarchy and respect.”

“Um… OK?” That didn’t sound entirely encouraging, but it had been her idea to come out there in the first place, so it would be a bit silly to chicken out.

He smiled at her reassuringly enough, anyway. “Come on, it’ll be fine. Just stay with me.”

It was only a short walk through trees that seemed very old, twisted and weighed down by their icy burdens. The path was well-trodden, though, the snow compressed and treacherously hard beneath her feet, and she had to walk very carefully to avoid her feet from skidding out from under her. Kicking through a low ridge of snow where the trees gave out, they stepped out into a large clearing with a long, low building on the far side. What really caught her attention, though, was the huge figure patting a hippogriff, with another one snuffling hopefully at the pockets of his overcoat and a third a short distance away.

She heard a grunt of mild surprise from Evan. “Oh, I didn’t expect to see Hagrid out here. Anyway, normally we’d wait here for the herd to notice us, and then the dominant male would usually come over and check us out. These guys all know me pretty well by now, but let’s go and see Hotspur anyway and introduce you. That’s him over there with Hagrid, the big, grey male.”

“Oh. Right, um… what do I do?”

“Just say hello. Don’t make any sudden moves, and when he looks right at you, you stop and bow to him. Keep eye contact, and only go near him if he bows back, understand?”

“Yeah, I remember that from lessons.”

“Let’s go and meet him, then.” They crunched their way over the frozen ground, and she was a little unnerved to see the three heads all simultaneously come up and look their way. Evan looked unconcerned, though.

“Morning, Professor!”

The big man beamed at them, slapping the grey hippogriff on the shoulder and making him snort. “Morning, Mr. Fielding! An’ Miss Taylor, too, eh?”

The hippogriffs watched them approach through unblinking, orange eyes, tilting their heads to see in movements that were rather more bird-like than horse-like. Getting closer, she felt a shiver run down her back at the _size_ of them, especially the big stallion that he’d called Hotspur. It wasn’t just a matter of height, but the bulk of their bodies, too, with broad barrels that tapered to powerful equine hindquarters. She had sort of assumed that they were huge in her memory because she was younger and smaller, but they were just as big as she remembered, and they carried a suppressed air of intimidating menace. _Just like Evan says, they’re only as tame as they want to be for as long as they want to be. _

“That’s far enough,” Evan said almost in a whisper. “Bow, and hold eye contact.”

She followed his instructions and, after a moment’s hesitation, the big hippogriff bobbed its head in return, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Hagrid chuckled amiably, scratching the hippogriff’s head. “Glad ter see some of yer lessons stuck, then, Miss Taylor.”

_Oh, I’m not used to feeling like such a midget. The hippogriff, Hagrid, even Evan’s taller than __I am__! _“Morning. Um… well, sort of. Not exactly. Evan reminded me.”

“Heh, he’s bin doin’ a fine job with ‘em, this year. So, you’ve come ter see what’s takin’ up all his time, eh?”

Evan grinned at her, making her catch her breath. “She wants to meet Storm mostly, I think, just like everyone else that’s heard about him.”

“And the others! This one is Hotspur, you said?” _Do I just walk up to him? Well, I guess Evan is, so…_

“Yeah, and that’s Windrush there, and the black one is Fleetwing.”

Hotspur was a big enough challenge for her to be starting with, and she forced herself to walk closer. Those magnificent orange eyes watched her every step of the way, and she felt a shiver seeing the huge, hooked beak up close and the way the muscle in his powerful shoulders rippled as he shifted his weight. _The sheer scale of him! Five foot eight has never seemed so bloody short!_

“It’s all right, give him a pat,” Evan murmured, his hand already on Hotspur’s shoulder.

The feathers of his neck were slick and springy, and she tried not to flinch when he leaned into her touch.

“You’re doing great. See? They’re fine once they get to know you.”

_That’s easy for you to say, Evan! _But Hotspur seemed to be relaxed, and even welcome her attention, so she scratched along his crest and ran her other hand down to where the feathers transitioned to smooth hair instead, the grey of his coat heavily salted with small blotches and streaks of black.

“Ol’ Hotspur’s been the dominant male here for near on ten years, now,” said Hagrid cheerfully from behind her, making her jump. “Professor Kettleburn got ‘im from Croatia, brought ‘im in specially when Talonstrike died. He’s a proper, old-fashioned Dinaric hippogriff, he is, you can tell in the broadness of the chest an’ in his talons, see? Ya can always tell a badly-bred, modern hippogriff, ‘cause their talons are always a mess, either too short or even curled so as they can’t walk quite right, but…”

Hagrid rattled on with great cheer and enthusiasm, but it was mostly lost on Michelle. She made sure to throw in agreeing noises now and then - “Wow!” - “Really?” - “He is, isn’t he?” - and that was all the encouragement he needed. Evan was watching her with a suppressed smile, which she returned with a grin and a cocked eyebrow.

Something nudged her back, and _Oh, sweet stars above, it’s another one!_ Somehow, the black one had managed to sneak up on her and was sniffing curiously at her cloak.

“Fleety, now, she’s a traditional British strain. Good, solid shoulders and strong legs, see?”

“And she can be a bit greedy,” Evan interjected, making Hagrid laugh. “I don’t think she’s got anything for you in her pockets,” he added to the hippogriff.

“Only a hanky and… err… and a boiled sweet,” said Michelle, after a brief fumble in the pockets of her cloak. “But they don’t eat things like that, do they?”

“Fleety will, she’s a rescue. Her first owner spoiled her rotten, treated her like a princess. C’mon, get out of there, you,” said Hagrid, effortlessly shoving the hippogriff away with one hand on her flank. “Treat her like a lady.” Fleetwing fluffed out her feathers and shook, somehow managing to look embarrassed as well as offended, and Michelle laughed at the sight.

“Oh, you poor, put-upon hippogriff!”

They worked their way around the rest of the herd one by one, a task that took them all around the paddock. Hagrid left them to it to resume work on digging over the dung heap by the long, low building at one end of the paddock that Evan described as loose boxes, but Michelle found it surprisingly good fun to meet each hippogriff and try to get a feel for their distinct and different personalities. Hotspur followed them for a while, but lost interest while they were making a fuss of Nightstar, shook out his massive, feathery wings, and sprang into the air. She watched him go, open-mouthed in admiration, as he flew out over the Forbidden Forest. “Probably gone hunting,” was Evan’s verdict.

“And last but not least, the stars of the show,” Evan said, giving the elderly maid of the herd a final pat. How on earth a hippogriff ended up with a name like Hedy Lamarr, she couldn’t begin to guess. “Caroline had the egg in one of the loose-boxes, and it’s basically become their home. Storm will be in there somewhere, too, he still doesn’t go far from her side.”

Hagrid paused in his work to lean on his pitchfork and watch them walk to the loose boxes. Feeling cheerful, she gave him a wave, and got a big smile and a wave in return. _Hagrid’s always happy to see people happy_. They had offered to help with their wands, but he’d turned them down. “Nah, it’s all right. It won’t take that long, an’ I’ve always liked a spot o’ working with me hands.”

Caroline was clearly the hippogriff lying on her belly on a bed of straw, her head cocked as she watched them approach. There was no mistaking her from Evan’s descriptions, she had a wonderful, chestnut-brown coloured coat and her feathers were edged in white. There was a small shape peeking out from under her wing, too, dark grey, and it lifted its head and blinked sleepy orange eyes at them before letting out a chirp and scrambling to its feet. Evan glanced over at her, a smile on his face, and together, they bowed to the two hippogriffs. Storm simply trotted right out and started sniffing around Evan’s legs, but Caroline tossed her head in annoyance before deigning to nod briefly back at them. Storm had no such reservations, turning to look curiously at Michelle and then boldly stepping closer.

“Hi there! Oh, you are adorable, aren’t you?” She knelt and let the little hippogriff sniff her outstretched hand, and then he came a little closer when she stroked his crest.

“Careful, he tends to try to eat everything,” she heard Evan say, but Storm was already rubbing his head against her hand and demanding her attention.

“He’s just curious. Even human toddlers try to taste the world.” One taloned foot landed on her knee and he seemed to be trying to climb up and get a better look at her hair. “Uh-uh, little one.” She pushed him off, and tucked her hair back inside her cloak.

She heard a grumpy-sounding grumble, and looked up to see Evan vanish behind Caroline’s bulk, the hippogriff standing between them and casting a surprisingly-dirty look at her.

“Um… is she OK with someone being with her chick?” She fended off another attempt by Storm to use her as a jungle gym, and straightened up.

“I’m not sure what her problem is, she’s being a bit cranky today. Maybe if you come and say Hi, let her get to know you?”

“Okay!” She walked slowly towards them, leaving Storm to trot off after Fleetwing behind her. Evan tried to step around Caroline, but she moved to block him.

“Caroline! Come on, stop being silly.” He ducked under her neck and took a few quick steps to Michelle’s side, turning to see Caroline snort in displeasure and toss her head. “Sorry, this is a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” he said to her, before adding to the hippogriff, “Now, are you going to behave yourself?”

Caroline’s tail lashed, and she took a pace towards them. Feeling suitably intimidated, Michelle shrank close to Evan’s side, and felt him put a reassuring arm around her _that wasn’t in the least distracting oh Merlin!_ “It’s all right, Michelle,” she heard him say softly, just as Caroline lowered her head and pushed it in between her and Evan, then shoved her away with a toss of her neck, sending her stumbling back, and she nearly fell on her backside in a patch of half-frozen, snowy mud.

“Hey! Hey, stop that!” Evan exclaimed in alarm. He threw an arm around the hippogriff’s neck and tried to walk her backwards, but she simply shook him off and _glared_ at her. “‘Chelle, I think it might be better if you step out.” Evan’s voice was low but clipped and anxious.

The hippogriff watched her take a few steps backwards through unblinking eyes and let out a warning chuff.

“Caroline! Good grief!”

That was enough for Michelle. She turned and fled, angling over to hide behind the enormous, solid figure of Hagrid, who was watching from the end of the building with the pitchfork dangling loose in one massive hand.

“It’s all right, Miss Taylor. Ol’ Caroline’s bein’ a bit naughty today, but you’ll be safe enough out here.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” she said, rather breathlessly, watching Evan remonstrate with the hippogriff.

“I don’t think it’s that.”

“Well, what then? Does she act like this around everyone she doesn’t know?”

It was rather difficult to tell under the enormous, bushy beard, but it looked like Hagrid was trying very hard not to laugh. “Err… I dunno how to put this, but… well, I think Caroline’s prob’ly jealous.”

“What?” She hated the squeak in her voice.

“Er… well, you know. You an’ Mr. Fielding, there.”

“No?” Her voice was soaring into the higher registers on wings of embarrassment. _Oh, by Merlin’s balls, Hagrid, don’t you dare-_

“Well, she can smell ‘im on ya. An’ no doubt you on ‘im, too, an’ anyone can see the way ya are with each other.”

“I don’t-, um, what do-, er…” She flailed for words in absolute mortification, making an even bigger idiot of herself in the process. _A professor! Insinuating… well… but…!_

Hagrid chuckled, with a kindly smile. “Ah, it’s a bit soon for ya, is it? Well, I’m prob’ly wrong. Must be. An’ Caroline, too, of course.”

She turned away from him, raising her face to the sky where she wouldn’t have to look at any of them. “All right, there’s no need to rub it in!” she muttered.

“I seen a lot o’ students come through over the years. Some take longer’n others.” He winked at her when she risked a glance back at him, “It usually works out fer best.”

“Err… right,” she said weakly. _Good God, _why_?! A ten-foot-tall cupid, what have I done to deserve this?_ A voice behind her made her jump.

“Michelle, are you OK? I’m really sorry, she’s never been like that with anyone else. That’s hippogriffs for you, I suppose.”

“Yeah, fine,” she muttered, looking everywhere but at him or Hagrid.

“Hippogriffs can take funny ter people, sometimes,” Hagrid said cheerfully. “They can be very propri-, pro-, err, possessive. Summat to do with the herd, I ‘spect.”

“How do you mean?” She blew out a breath and steeled herself to turn and face Evan again. He looked flushed and a bit exasperated, but otherwise unharmed, and gave her an apologetic smile. She couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Well, the herd is a tight group, right? An’ yer an outsider an’ not one of the herd, so ya might be a threat, see?”

“Me? But I’m not a hippogriff!”

“_We_ know that, but I dunno how hippogriffs see it. Yer not one o’ the herd, though, an’ she’s decided that she has to run ya off.”

Evan tilted his head a little, looking at her closely. “Are you sure you’re all right, Michelle? You’re shivering a bit.”

“I suppose I am a bit cold. Maybe I just need another warming charm, or something.”

“Hmph. Well, if you’ve seen everything you wanted to see, maybe we should just head back inside.”

“All right, then.”

“Are you all right, there, Professor?”

“Go on, you two. I’m nearly finished, just a bit more to do an’ I’ll be off inside, meself.”

They said their goodbyes - and to Nightstar, who swooped down out of the sky to see what they were doing - and trudged through the fringe of the forest to the little clearing where they had landed. It took Evan a few minutes to get his borrowed broom going, but soon they were airborne for the castle once more. He led them back to the Quidditch stadium again, and just as they touched down, two familiar, red-headed figures emerged from inside, trailed by a younger pair also in Gryffindor robes.

“Lookee, Fred! Strange visitors from foreign parts!” George exclaimed dramatically, clutching his twin’s arm.

“Arr! We be but simple country folk, mighty travellers!” said Fred, in a ridiculous, yokel drawl that made her giggle. “The wuuuurld beyond t’ forest be unknown to us, it be!”

“Just as well, I should think,” said Evan, grinning. “Hey guys, Hi Jack, Andy.”

The twins said ‘Hi’ with their usual cheer, but Kirke and Sloper looked glum.

“We’re gonna head back up to the castle,” muttered Andy Kirke.

“Yeah, I’m frozen,” added Jack Sloper.

“Catch you later, then.”

“’Bye.”

Evan turned an enquiring eye to the twins.

“We’ve been trying to find some new Beaters,” explained George. “Jack and Andy seem to be about the only ones who might have a shot.”

“Seeing as we got ourselves banned, the least we can do for our captain is try to replace ourselves.”

“As if you guys could be replaced!”

George made an uncharacteristic grimace. “You might be right there.”

“Let’s just say that there are many opportunities for them to improve,” added Fred. “Many, _many _opportunities.”

“Where have you guys been? And on a school broom, too!”

Evan shrugged. “Michelle wanted to meet the new hippogriff, so we flew back there to see them. It beats blundering through the snow all the way there.”

“Indeed,” said George, waggling his eyebrows. “Well, I have to say you’re certainly demonstrating a very _firm_ and _commanding_ grasp of Evan’s broomstick, there.”

“Consenting adults, George, consenting adults.”

Her mouth dropped open and her cheeks flooded scarlet at the insinuation.

“Guys!” Evan protested, but the double-act rolled on.

“Very true, Fred, well spotted. Well, just as long as she’s riding his shaft well away from innocent eyes-”

“Guys? No.” Evan’s voice was low and hard, and he glared at them through lowered brows.

“Oh come on, Evan-”

“_No,_” he growled forcefully.

There was a brief silence.

“Sorry, Michelle,” George said quietly. She dared to glance over at him, and he did seem a bit shamefaced. The twins looked at each other, then shrugged, and George continued. “Anyway, we were going to try to find you later. A little angel spoke to us earlier about some goings-on yesterday while we were all in Hogsmeade.”

“It sounds a lot like a snake problem to us,” added Fred. He nodded at his twin, “He doesn’t mention that it was less of an angel and more an avenging Irish Valkyrie with flaming sword in hand, being held back only very slightly by her boyfriend.”

“Trish and Roger, as Heads, are trying for the diplomatic approach, a sort of high-level, hands-across-the-Great-Hall delegation to the Slytherin prefects that this isn’t going to be tolerated. There’s just one small problem with that.”

“What’s that?” said Evan.

“They’re a bunch of utter wallopers, that’s what!” said George, with a snort of contempt.

“And that’s just the prefects! They’re probably the ones doing it, too,” Fred added.

“Probably not Bletchley, actually. We had the pleasure of his company right before,” Evan said reluctantly, with a glance at Michelle.

“Yeah,” she added, trying not to shiver. “Although that said, I dunno exactly where they went. He was in Hogsmeade at least around lunchtime, I saw him.”

“And they seemed to be walking back to school when we ran into them.”

“They?” asked George.

“Bletchley and his usual sidekicks,” said Evan.

“Ah, the revolting reptiles. Was his girlfriend with them?”

“Who?”

“Halkett. At least, I assume she’s his girlfriend. The rumour is they were caught in the middle of, uh, some extra-curricular activities on patrol recently, and were in danger of losing their badges over it. I’m not sure if I’m sickened, horrified, or appalled.”

“So we went with all three,” said Fred, grinning. “Bletchley’s welcome to her, it must be like kissing a week-dead cod.”

“Anyway, Bletchley’s piscine passions aside, did you see her?”

“No, actually,” Michelle said reluctantly. “I think I’d have noticed her, too. She wouldn’t have been able to keep her mouth shut if she was.”

“Hmm. Well, anyway, I’m sure Roger or Trish will want to talk to you about all this. Can you make it to the tower after lunch?”

Evan looked enquiringly at her, and she nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“OK, we’ll let Trish know.”

Evan grinned, “Messenger duty, George?”

“Consider it our good deed for the day. Don’t worry, we’ll make up for it.”

“Anyway, I’d better go and drop this broom off,” said Evan.

“Assuming it makes it that far. Good grief, the biggest and best magical school in Britain, and the only brooms they can come up with are those sad old dustbusters.”

Evan chuckled, “Back in a sec.”

Evan hurried inside, leaving the Weasley boys looking at her thoughtfully. It was a bit unnerving, she decided.

“Hey, Michelle, look. Um, we never heard why you were up at the hospital wing in the first place.” George’s voice was surprisingly gentle.

She took a deep breath and tried to meet their eyes. _Oh, they are going to tease me rotten about this!_ “It was nothing, really. A few jinxes when we weren’t expecting it. Evan got banged up a bit, so I wanted him to get checked over.”

There was a brief silence. “That doesn’t sound like nothing to us,” said Fred, his voice quiet and unusually serious. “It’s a jinx this time, what about next time? What about all those little kids? Where does it stop if we don’t stop it?”

George nodded, “You guys stick together, all right? We really don’t like the way things are going, this year, and we’re all going to have to look out for each other.”

There was nothing much she could say to that. _When even the Weasley twins are being serious, things must be bad. _

It was an unusually quiet bunch that walked together back up to the castle.


	12. A Welcome Break

Whatever Michelle had expected when they met up with Trish and Roger, a full-scale interview complete with written notes was definitely not it. Roger even asked them to sign the bottom ‘as a formal summary of facts’, and she came away confused, uncertain… and rather impressed. Dandy Davies tended to skate by on his - admittedly considerable - charm a lot of the time, but the seriousness and dedication with which he approached the task showed that maybe the idea of him following his successful parents to the bar might not be so unlikely, after all.

What happened next was less clear. Having spoken to as many of the kids involved as they could find that were prepared to talk about it, Trish and Roger bypassed the teachers and went straight to Professor Dumbledore. According to Trish, via Chris, the Headmaster had listened carefully to their report, and was about to reply when Umbridge had come bursting in to his office without even a by-your-leave, demanding to know what was going on. How she had found out, no one knew, but she was not slow to start banging on at great length about her authority and Educational Decrees and so on. Professor Dumbledore heard her out, thanked her excruciatingly politely for her concern and interest… and then ushered Trish and Roger out, promising that there would be ‘full consideration and prompt action’.

Their frustration at the nebulous, non-answer was palpable on Monday morning, and it spread throughout both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The Gryffindors were anti-Slytherin on general principle anyway, but it meant a tense, hostile atmosphere during classes. Thankfully, despite some dark looks and a few threats, it didn’t escalate any further. On Monday night, the prefects were all summoned to a meeting where - despite Umbridge’s best efforts to interrupt at every turn - Professor Dumbledore alluded to ‘Recent trouble between the Houses, particularly involving younger students’ and issued a firm reminder of duties and responsibilities.

“It’s incredible how he can take that bitch Umbridge’s meddling and turn it around on her without diluting what he’s saying or getting sidetracked,” Maxi noted later.

The general feeling was that it didn’t go far enough. Chris summed it up. “Trish says that the problem is most of the kids didn’t even see the spells, let alone who cast them. I mean, we can make some pretty good guesses, but without proof, I suppose Dumbledore’s limited in how much he can do.”

Despite their misgivings, the week ground on with no further incidents, and it seemed that Dumbledore's warning was sufficient to keep the peace until the end of the week and end of term which, Michelle thought, might have been the best that could be hoped for.

At the end of their final Potions class for the year, Engel called her name as she and Chris were leaving. She waited just outside the door, and was surprised when he gave her an uncharacteristically cheerful smile. “Happy Christmas and all that, you two. Tell Fielding I’ll see him on the train.”

That made her smile, too. “Will do. Merry Christmas to you, too, Gabriel!”

“Merlin, one mention of her crush and she just about leaves a puddle,” said a sultry voice from behind them, dripping with disdain. “Get out of the way, Taylor, you utter embarrassment.”

She turned to see a girl with long, black hair and a deceptively-sweet face standing behind them with her hands on her hips. There was absolutely nothing stopping Anastasia Halkett from passing, but it gave her an opening for her favourite pastime, baiting people to try to get a reaction.

Chris rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go. Come on, Michelle.”

“You’re not making any friends here, Ana,” Engel sighed, as they set off along the corridor.

“Friends? With the fat half-troll and the desperate drip? Don’t make me laugh!” she scoffed.

Chris just shook his head and kept walking. Unfortunately, the Slytherins had to follow them, meaning that Halkett was just behind them - and still within range with her poisonous voice.

“It’s so funny to watch you panting along after Fielding with your tongue hanging out, and even then he won’t touch you. He must be able to smell the _mud_.”

She knew it was a mistake but couldn’t stop herself. “Shut up, Halkett.” She heard a snicker behind her.

“As if a proper wizard would even think of sullying themselves with you! You’re truly pathetic, you know that?”

“As pathetic as someone on her knees by the statue of Gregory the Smarmy out of hours, do you think?” Engel’s voice came pointedly.

“Watch your tongue, you Mudblood-loving traitor!” Halkett spat in an ugly tone.

“It wasn’t _my _tongue caught somewhere it shouldn’t have been,” he replied smoothly, sounding rather bored.

Halkett swore at him, spitting vicious threats that were either met with bored indifference or turned back on her, and she got so caught up in the verbal war with her fellow Slytherin that Michelle and Chris were able to slip away from them almost unnoticed.

_Merlin, I’d love to be able to do that to her. For now, I’ll settle for just getting away, though._

“What a charmer,” Chris said, when they were out of earshot. “Are you all right, Michelle?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Chris.”

He chewed his lip thoughtfully. “It’s none of my business, but don’t listen to a word she says, especially about you and Evan. She’s just a bully with a mouth like a septic tank.”

She smiled up at him briefly and said nothing, but the thoughts still gnawed at her on the way up to Transfiguration after he’d broken off to head for the library. _She’s a bully, but there’s a kernel of truth in there, sort of. What does Evan really think about me? _Does _he think about me? Like that, I mean. Oh God, listen to me, I sound like a lovesick teenager. Ha, maybe I _am_ a lovesick teenager! But what would I do if he suddenly turned around and declared his undying love like one of Becky’s trashy novels? Panic and run away and bugger everything up, I expect. _She forced out a frustrated sigh and stepped into the Transfig. classroom, her feet finding their way to the free seat next to Evan by force of habit. _There’ll be time to overthink this later. Transfig. time, and I’d better pay attention or McGonagall will have my guts for garters_.

Evan turned an enquiring look on her that she knew translated as _Are you all right?,_ and she gave him a tiny, reassuring smile. _I’ll be fine. I’m with you._

* * * * *

Friday arrived at last, and the prospect of the end of term was the only thing that could get them through one final, dreary Defence class for the year. There wasn’t even the antics of the Weasley twins to lighten the mood and provide some entertainment, although Alicia Spinnet and Emma Carroll both came down with raging fevers within a few minutes of class starting and hobbled off for the hospital wing together with Kenny Towler, whose nose had started gushing blood. To Umbridge’s fury, the phrase ‘Umbridge-itis’ had become firmly attached to these sudden maladies, and it was no secret amongst the students that there was some Weasley wizardry involved, even if the two were unexpectedly absent themselves.

“Has anyone seen Fred and George today?” Mike asked, as they trooped back to their common room after the final bell. “It’s suspiciously quiet around here, and I know enough by now to be nervous when that happens! They must have something planned for the feast tonight.”

Chris made a face. “Didn’t you hear? Something’s happened. Apparently McGonagall rounded them up late last night. Not just the twins but Ron and Ginny, too.”

There was a brief silence while they contemplated what that could mean. Ravi was the one to state the obvious in a low voice. “Man, I hope that isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“Yeah. McGonagall isn’t saying, apparently, not even to Trish.”

“What about Lee? Surely he must know?” said Maxi, glancing back behind them.

“I asked him at lunch, and he’s in the dark, as well. Apparently there was some sort of commotion in the fifth-year dorms, and then all the Weasleys got yanked out of bed and vanished. Potter, too.”

“Potter? Huh. That’s interesting,” said Evan thoughtfully.

“Isn’t it just?” said Tammy. “Is it just me, or does that kid attract weird like nothing else?”

“What are you thinking, Evan?” Michelle asked him in a low voice as they clattered down the stairs.

He forced out a breath, and looked over at her with a smile. “Well, I’m thinking that we’re probably not going to get any answers right now, and maybe it’s not even our business - and it’s Christmas, so maybe we should focus on that, instead.”

“I like that idea!”

There was already a party underway in the common room. Justin had just levitated the live Christmas tree in its hefty pot in through one of the large, bay windows and into a nook by the fire, while Ernie and Hannah were supervising the decorations and helping some of the younger students enchant lights and baubles. Kevin and Gwion were setting out bowls of snacks, and Leah, Megan, and Ellie argued good-naturedly whether the wireless should be playing carols or something a bit more modern. With the fire roaring, the cheerful buzz of happy voices, and snow drifting down outside in the growing darkness, it was immensely satisfying to walk into their dorm and let their bags fall. It was a weight off their shoulders in more ways than one.

Rather than rush out and join in with the others, Michelle spent some time sitting cross-legged on her bed, sorting out her things for the journey home. The others would try to do it later, and she knew that Tammy would still be running around like a headless chicken five minutes before the carriages left, but she made sure to get it out of the way so she could relax. Piling up things that she would need for homework, Christmas presents, and clothes and things she couldn’t do without, she managed to get it all in her schoolbag after a few shrinking charms. It beat lugging a trunk around, at any rate. _If only I could afford a bag with one of those Undetectable Extension charms on it._ The noise of her classmates’ celebrations came dimly through from the common room, but she took the chance to wash her face, brush out her hair, and smarten up her shirtfront and collar with a pressing charm.

_Our last Christmas together. Where will we all be in twelve months’ time? Not at Hogwarts, but… how will I cope without the girls? I wouldn't have said I was one for a riotous life, but it’s going to be so quiet without them. No Maxi sharing out cakes from the parcels her mum sends her. There won’t be Tammy doing my hair while I do Becky’s again. We won’t sneak off to the prefects’ bathroom with all the makeup and so on we can carry for a girls’ spa night. That’ll all be gone and over with, come the end of June. I know it’s supposed to be time for next chapters and a new life, and all that, but oh, I’m going to miss this, and I’m going to miss them._

“Michelle?”

It took her a second to realise that the voice wasn’t just another memory, and looked up to see Tammy watching her curiously, a long garland of golden tinsel around her neck.

“Hey. I thought I’d come and see where you’d got to. Busy packing, eh?”

“Yeah. I guess I kinda lost track.”

Tammy smiled. “And you started thinking about stuff. I’ve found myself doing the same, once or twice. D’you want a bit longer?”

Michelle uncrossed her legs, wincing at the stiffness in her muscles, and swung her feet onto the floor, then took Tammy’s outstretched hand to pull herself upright. “No, I think I’d better stop before I get maudlin. It’s Christmas, and all that. Oh, speaking of which - do you want your present?”

She plucked a neatly-wrapped box with a blue rosette off her bed and handed it to her friend.

Tammy grinned. “The same charms as last year?”

She laughed, “Yeah, no sneak peeks! Open on the day only.”

“Thanks, Michelle.” She put it in her trunk, and then handed her a present in return. “There’s no fancy charms on this one, so I guess I’ll just have to trust you.”

“Thank you!” Michelle hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and gave her a hug. “Merry Christmas, Tammy.”

Tammy squeezed her tightly. “Merry Christmas, mate. Come on, let’s go and join the others!”

* * * * *

The party that was already underway in the Hufflepuff common room continued in the Great Hall with the traditional Leavetaking Feast. Huge Christmas trees stood in each corner of the hall, the walls were hung with tinsel and decorations, and while the fireplaces roared, the ceiling showed a peaceful, perfect, clear moonless night in contrast to the grey morass and fog outside. There was a peculiar feeling of intense cold beating down from the yawning void overhead, only to be beaten back a short distance above their heads by the cosy warmth of the fires.

The Hufflepuffs went up as a group, led by Leah and Kevin, while the seventh-years trailed in at the back. Becky rushed back to their dorm to get changed at the last second, and Chris was still trying to comb the glitter out of his hair and brush it off his robes after being hit by a decoration that Leanne had thrown at Wayne Hopkins in retaliation for a lewd joke about baubles.

The staff table was full, with most of the professors in formal robes. Hagrid was perched cheerfully on one end in a massive, hairy-looking brown suit, while Professor Trelawney sat between Professor Sprout and Professor Babbling. She was wreathed in lurid scarves and bangles, but there was no disguising the redness of her cheeks and the slight sway as she sat there, blinking owlishly.

“It looks like she’s been hammering the cooking sherry again,” said Ravi, with a sigh and a shake of the head as they found their seats.

“Again?”

“You want to be careful in class these days, if you stand downwind of her the fumes will just about knock you down.”

In fact, the only sign of discontent was Professor McGonagall's fixedly neutral look. The reason for her sour mood was almost certainly being seated between their tweed-clad Defence Professor and the ever-pleasant Professor Snape.

Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore kept his speech short after covering the usual points about departure times in the morning, and then the tables filled with food and they could all dig in. Michelle opted for beef, deftly carved by Mike, but it was difficult to have any sort of real conversation because of the loud roar of happy voices and laughter all around them. That didn’t stop people trying, though, but she concentrated on her dinner instead, and gradually the noise subsided as people began to focus on their food. The others were still going long after she’d finished, and Becky was doing her impression of a one-woman locust swarm yet again.

“Where does she put it?” she heard Leah Harper demand in wonder. “I mean, I only have to _look_ at a roast potato and my arse starts getting wider, but she eats like a horse and still looks like an overgrown fairy princess.”

Tammy laughed, “It’s not fair, is it? What is it that they say, everything we enjoy is either illegal, immoral, or fattening?”

“Something like that, yeah!”

“Just wait until her metabolism slows down a bit, then she’ll be like the rest of us.”

Becky paused in her ravening to pout at them. “So sue me, I’m enjoying it while I can.”

Ravi shook his head and plopped another chicken leg down in front of her. “Lucky you. There you go, Tinker Bell, we wouldn’t want to starve you!” The next thing he said was “Oof!” as she whacked him on the arm.

“Bloody ‘Tinker Bell’! Cheeky prick!”

Michelle noticed that she did tear into the chicken leg, all the same, and had to suppress a laugh.

The main courses gave way to desserts, which of course meant Christmas pudding and the annual pantomime argument with Evan over the brandy custard. She nearly dropped her spoon in shock when she saw him take a bowl of fruit crumble instead.

“_No Christmas pud_?” she demanded incredulously. “I’m… I’m shocked! Betrayed! Evan, how could you?”

“Oh, here we go,” said Chris, suppressing a chuckle.

He shrugged. “I feel like a change.” Then, like a flash, his long arm snaked out and snagged the custard jug. “But not from this! Mwah-ha-ha! Victory and custard are mine!”

“_Nooo!_”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, you two!” Maxi sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Mine! All mine!” Evan cackled.

She pouted up at him, lower lip trembling and looking as heartbroken and woebegone as she could manage, and it took a second for her to realise that he was… actually pouring it into her bowl? “What?”

“I suppose I can spare you a drop. _One_ drop, mind you.”

She began to giggle, and he winked at her while their friends laughed at them.

“Just put the bloody jug down, it’ll refill itself,” Maxi barked at him impatiently. He complied, then looked into it in pretend shock.

“What do you know, it does, too.”

“I think it’s one of them Christmas miracles ya hear about,” said Mike.

“It’ll be a bigger miracle if they can stop flirting with each other for two minutes,” Tammy chuckled, spearing a peach slice out of her trifle.

Michelle blushed, and focused on her pudding, but when she looked up, she caught Evan’s eye, and had to suppress a laugh at the look he gave her. Being a mature, sensible adult, she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Honestly, the bloody pair of ya,” Maxi grumbled, “Yer supposed to be seventh-years!”

“And?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s pretty entertaining from where we’re sitting, said Susan Bones, with a big smirk.

When dinner was finally over, they stayed to mingle with the other houses - with the exception of the Slytherins, who beat a judicious and probably wise retreat. The remaining students exchanged cards with friends and talked excitedly of Christmas and going home until nearing curfew, when they headed back to their common rooms at last.

Michelle’s friends commandeered a couple of couches near the fire, where they could flop out and relax and digest, talking idly of anything that came to mind. Hannah Abbott had her wireless tuned to the WWN’s Christmas broadcast, belting out festive tunes. A few packets of chocolates and other sweets were being passed around the room, but most people were too stuffed to eat anything else. Just as the heat from the fire was starting to do its work and Michelle began to feel sleepy, the introduction to a new song made Ravi perk up with an evil grin on his face.

“Oh, hey, turn this one up, Hannah, it’s a song for Evan and Michelle!”

“What?” Michelle’s head jerked up in surprise, only to see Megan lean over and twist the volume knob.

“All together, now!”

  
_ -About the gift I hoped to find beneath the tree_

  
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” said Evan, putting a hand over his eyes with a snort of laughter. Michelle just looked at him in confusion. _Celestina Warbeck, obviously. But…?_

  
_ So imagine my surprise_

_ When right there before my eyes_

_ Was the last gift that a girl expects to see..._

  
The knut dropped, and Michelle began to giggle.

“Everyone!” cheered Becky and Mike,

  
_ My baby gave me a hippogriff for Christmas_

_ A giant, feathery hippogriff, it's true_

  
The rest of their mates all roared the chorus, and the song wound on, recounting the woes of the unfortunate hippogriff recipient, but Michelle missed most of it. She was too busy laughing so much it hurt. Just when she thought it was over, she watched Gwion through streaming eyes lean over and slug Evan on the shoulder.

“So, did you get her one?” the big Welshman asked.

Evan laughed, wiping his eyes. “Well, yes, but it’s only a small one!”

That set her off again, and she wrapped her arms around her aching sides and gave in to breathless, shivery, jelly-legged, laughter once more. “Oh, stop it, I’ve got the stitch so bad!” she choked when she could summon enough breath to speak.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Becky moaned from beside her, her hands over her belly.

“Hmm… do you puke rainbows or fairy dust, Tinker Bell?” Ravi asked with faux-seriousness, leaning forward.

Becky scowled at him and drew her wand threateningly, and Ravi bounced to his feet and backed off a few paces, grinning hugely. “Oh, come on, Tinks, it’s Christmas!”

Her wand flared, and a burst of golden smoke swirled around him that gradually cleared to reveal… sparkly gold fairy wings, a tiara, and a green, sequined dress, while in his hand he clutched a large wand with an oversized star on the end that trailed golden glitter. There was a silence that swept around the room as everyone looked up and caught sight of him, and a snicker started over amongst a group of third-years.

Ravi looked down at himself for a moment, and put his hands on his hips. “Oh, not _again_? How does this keep happening?” As the laughter swelled once more, he shrugged and began to skip around the room, anointing people with golden glitter from his wand. “Think happy thoughts, people! Think happy thoughts!”

Maxi and Mike were leaning against each other for support, and Tammy’s laughter had broken down into coughing, when Ravi pranced back over to Becky and bowed extravagantly.

“Oh, you think I’m going to change you back, now, is that it?” she demanded around her giggles.

He flourished his wand in a spray of glitter, and shrugged. “If not, then I suppose at least I’m in the spirit of things.”

“Careful, mate, or she’ll jam a Christmas tree up your arse, too!” shouted an anonymous voice from across the room, to another roar of laughter.

The door to the common room swung open almost unnoticed, and the first that most of the students knew about it was Professor Sprout’s voice. “Good heavens, the racket in here! They must be able to hear you lot all over the castle!”

“Sorry, Professor!” came the cheerful chorus.

“Now, this won’t do! I know it’s the start of the holidays, but it’s getting late and I’ll have to ask you to keep it down, even if you’re not going off to bed just-”

She caught sight of Ravi and stopped dead for a moment, then just shook her head. “I would ask, Mr. Singh, but I expect that you probably deserved it.”

“Why does everyone always say that?” he whined, still smiling.

“Experience, I’d expect,” Professor Sprout added briskly. “It saves time.”

“Huh!” He snorted in mock-offence, then spun on the spot and emerged from another puff of golden smoke back in his school robes. “Well, if you’re going to be like _that_…”

Professor Sprout continued to half-heartedly harangue them, but there was no mistaking the smile on her face and, as usual, it didn’t take long to get her sitting in the middle of the common room with a bottle of butterbeer and a mini chocolate cauldron or three, chattering happily with the rest of them. Even the Friar drifted through the wall to join them, glowing brightly with good cheer.

Michelle took advantage of the distraction to flop back in her seat and let her eyes fall shut, until she caught herself nodding off again from the warmth and a full belly. Enough was enough. She summoned one final burst of energy to creep in to her dorm and leave presents for the girls on their pillows, and then she could fall into bed and drift off with a smile on her face.

* * * * *

Evan dragged a reluctant eye open and looked blearily at the clock until the time sank in.

_I probably ought to go for a run._

He wrestled with that thought for a second, then gave up and rolled over, pulling the covers tightly around himself.

_Nope_.

* * * * *

Michelle awoke late the next morning to the sounds of the girls packing around her. She couldn’t resist a sleepy, smug smile, and snuggled down into her quilt to doze a bit longer until she heard Maxi dragging Becky bodily out of bed, to much moaning and swearing. Feeling tired and heavy-eyed, she had a quick wash and freshen up, before putting on yesterday’s robes over jeans and a thick jumper, and following the others down to breakfast. None of them really felt like eating, but there was the promise of coffee which would at least drag them to life for long enough to get onto the train.

She was nursing a cup of coffee with three sugars instead of the usual one when an unfamiliar owl swooped down to deposit a letter with Maxi. They watched as she read the postmark, then flipped it over.

“Hey guys, it’s from Helga!” she said excitedly.

“What?” mumbled Chris, with a mouth full of toast.

“Come on, open it, then!”

“Yeah, let’s see.”

Maxi ripped the envelope open and pulled out a card. When she opened it, a tiny sleigh pulled by little raindeer took off from its surface and climbed away in a spiral until it vanished just over their heads, while a tinkling, festive tune began to play.

“There’s a letter, too,” said Maxi, passing the card on to Tammy and unfolding a piece of paper. “I’ll read it out, if ya like.”

Michelle took the card from Chris and read the inscription thoughtfully while Maxi spoke.

  
_ To all my old Hufflepuff friends,_

_ Merry Christmas! I miss you all so much!_

_ Love and best wishes for the New Year,_

_ Helga xxx_

  
_Yes, that’s exactly the sort of thing that she would say, isn’t it, whether she means it or not. Probably not. But then again, it _is_ the right sort of thing to say, isn’t it? And maybe she really does miss us, after six years. Why am I being a bitch about it, she wasn’t _that_ bad, really. How sad and petty am I to sit here and hold on to old dislikes over pretty much nothing? She sounds like she’s having a good time in Helsinki, so I ought to be a better person and be happy for her. _

“Earth to Michelle? Anybody home?”

The unexpected voice snapped her out of her reverie, and she looked up in panic to see Becky looking at her strangely.

“Oh! Sorry!”

She quickly handed the card over, then busied herself finishing her coffee. _What’s wrong with me at the moment? I seem to be in a really weird mood, recently_. But she knew what the answer was - change. Change was all around them and unavoidable, now that they were in their final year. Everything that she knew and was finally starting to get comfortable with over the last seven years was all about to change, and the future was suddenly very real and very imminent - and very unclear.

_It’s growing up, I guess. And I don’t get a choice in the matter, no one does. I don’t get a choice, except for all the ones I have to make that are all going to be down to me, now. _She swallowed. _Yeah, no pressure, right?_

* * * * *

“_-son of an inbred, constipated erumpent!_”

Tammy’s swearing echoed down the corridor from their dorm to the nearly-empty common room, where Michelle and Maxi were hovering.

“Ya done in there, Tammy? Ya’ve got about two minutes, or the carriages will be leaving!”

“_-sake, get in there! Why won’t you fit, you utter piece of-_”

“Every bloody year, the same ol’ thing. Every year, twice a year,” Maxi muttered in exasperation, with yet another glance at her watch. “_Taaam! We’re leaving, we can’t wait any longer!_”

“_Wait one more second, I’m nearly there!_” Tammy shrieked back at them.

“The trunks are starting to go,” Michelle called out anxiously, as the pile of trunks in the corner of the common room began to shrink, the Hogwarts house elves transporting them to Hogsmeade for loading.

“_Get out of the damn way!_”

A heavy, wooden school trunk came rocketing down the corridor, making them dive for safety, and vanished almost before it hit the floor.

“Did I make it?” Tammy panted, stepping into the common room with her face flushed and plastered with flyaway, sweat-darkened strands of her long, blonde hair.

“By about half a second. Bloody hell, girl, ya’d think ya might have learned by now-”

“No point!” she said, grinning and hooking her arms into theirs. “It’s the last time except for the last time, and if I don’t make that one, I’ve got all summer to get back on my own.”

“Yer a pain in the arse, Applebee!” Maxi grumbled. “Now, come on an’ move it!”

Tammy exchanged a grin with Michelle, and the three of them ran through the open common room door and up the stairs, and straight outside.

“_Oi! You lot!_ You haven’t been marked off, yet!” Argus Filch bawled after them, bursting out of the Entrance Hall and shaking a long scroll of paper after them in one gnarled hand.

“Applebee, Taylor, and O’Flaherty!” Tammy shouted back at him, leaping into a nearby carriage. “Happy Christmas, Mr. Filch!”

Michelle flopped into her seat, trying not to laugh. “Tammy, he looked like he was about to explode!”

“Filch always looks like that, he’d faint if his blood pressure came down out of the stratosphere,” Tammy said blithely. “Anyway, here we are in bags of time, and now it’s just for the train home!”

“Aye, I don’t know what all the fussing was about,” Maxi said sarcastically. “Bags ‘o time, jus’ bags of it! Giddy-up, thestrals, or we’ll miss the bloody thing!”

* * * * *

They arrived at Hogsmeade Station as the usual chaos on the platform was starting to thin, and it took only a minute to weave their way through the crowd and find the rest of their mates in their usual compartments.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Evan murmured to her as she heaved her bag into the luggage rack and took the seat beside him.

She shook her head, “Another few seconds and Tammy would have been going home by floo.”

“Aye, couldn’t drag herself away from the place,” Maxi added acidly.

“Oh, give it a rest,” Tammy said breezily, swinging in through the door. “We made it, didn’t we?”

“An’ perhaps we don’t need to hear ya arguing about it all the way ter Kings Cross for a change,” said Mike, with a sigh that earned him an evil look from his girlfriend.

“You are wound a bit tight at the moment, Maxi,” said Becky, pushing her way in past Tammy. “You’ve been snapping at everyone for the last couple of days.”

Maxi transferred her scowl from Mike to Becky, but it quickly faded, and she rubbed her face sheepishly. “Ah, maybe I am, an’ all. Sorry.”

Becky grinned, “It’s OK, I think you just need a holiday. I’ll see what I can arrange.”

That got a few chuckles, and the mood lightened until, with a groan of brakes and a hiss of steam, the Express eased away from the station and began to gather speed.

Ravi sat back with a satisfied groan of his own. “Well, that’s it. No more school - for a few weeks, anyway.”

Maxi huffed thoughtfully. “I did think about apparating back to London for an earlier Portkey, but I didn’t want ter miss this, y’know?” she said quietly. “And there’s only one more trip south after this, which sort of brings everything home.”

“So you’re not going back for the Easter hols, then?” asked Becky, with a twisted grin.

“Right before N.E.W.T.s? No fear, me dear! I’ll be up ter me eyeballs in revision, like the rest of yers.”

“Yeah. Scary thought, isn’t it? And then I suppose we’re going to have to work out what we’re going to do _after _N.E.W.T.s.”

Mike grinned wickedly, “Right now, I think I’ll go and have a merry bonfire of every note and textbook I can lay me hands on. Get roaring drunk an’ dance naked around it, that sort o’ thing.”

That got a laugh out of everyone, but Tammy said, “No, seriously. What are you thinking?”

“Maxi and I have been looking at Gringotts Eire, or maybe the Irish Ministry. That’s unless the Kestrels come calling for us, of course.”

That made them all perk up. “Really? Have you heard anything?” Tammy asked eagerly.

“There was maybe a rumour but nothin’ more, so who knows. I’ll not be holding my breath, but equally, I’ll not turn it down if I’m given the opportunity.”

“What if they ask Maxi but not you?” Chris asked. “I mean, that could happen, couldn’t it? Or the other way around.”

“Ha! I’d be gutted, but it’s not like I’m going to stand in her way, is it?”

“Same,” said Maxi. “Anyway, Chris - your turn.”

“Oh, er… there’s an apprenticing scheme at St. Mungo's for medical potion-making. I’ve written to them, and so long as I get a decent mark on my N.E.W.T., I think I’ll be all right.”

“Nice one!”

“Well done, mate!”

“I haven’t got it yet,” he pointed out, with a shy smile.

“You will, you’ll be great,” said Becky, with conviction.

Tammy made a face, “If I hadn’t been so abysmal at Potions, I might have tried becoming a Healer.”

“Good luck gettin’ the required marks for Defence, this year,” Maxi said darkly. “You’ve got Ancient Runes, though, ya could try fer somethin’ with Gringotts?”

“That’s probably my best bet, although that runs into the problem of Defence again,” Tammy said with a shrug. “You’ll be doing something with Potions like Chris, too, won’t you Michelle?”

“Well, actually… um… I was thinking that maybe I might see about becoming an Artificer,” she said tentatively, not quite looking at any of them.

“Wow, really? That would be so cool!”

“I know it probably won’t happen, but… well, it doesn’t hurt to find out.”

“True, that, and you never know,” said Maxi. “What about you, Evan? Professional hippogriff wrangler?”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Maybe. I’m still thinking about a few things,” he said eventually.

There was a brief silence.

“Well, why don’t ya knock us down with enthusiasm there, mate?” said Mike.

“There’s a lot to happen between now and then.”

“You’ve not been tapped up about Quidditch, have you?” said Tammy. “I mean, you’ve got to be hands down the best Keeper at school right now, and you’ve got better reach than Ollie Wood did, too. One of ‘em will be after you.”

“It’s not Quidditch,” he said, but didn’t elaborate further.

There was a slightly awkward silence before Maxi continued. “Well, then, what about you, Becky?

“Dunno, really. I’ll find something,” she said, with a shrug. “I’m not working for the Ministry, though, that bunch of stuffed robes would drive me insane.”

That got a few laughs.

“That leaves you, Ravi. So, what’s the big plan?”

He coughed, “Actually, it’s sort of being a stuffed robe at the Ministry.” He waited for the laughter to die down, and grinned at Becky’s apology. “I’ve applied for a Research Under-Clerk role with the Department of Mysteries.”

“You’re going to be an Unspeakable?” said Chris.

“I dunno about that, but it’s a place to start, and once you’re in, who knows? It should be interesting, at least.”

“Now I get why you did Divination and Ancient Runes this year,” said Chris.

Ravi shrugged, “Divination’s a bit of a joke there, actually, but what the heck, I should be able to get an ‘E’ with a bit of luck, and it still counts as another N.E.W.T.”

“I’m trying really hard not to think about N.E.W.T.s right now,” said Michelle, getting to her feet. “And anyway, school’s over, we’ve left the station, so I’m going to the loo to change out of my robes.”

Mike and Maxi exchanged a look. “And I suppose we ought ter at least make some vague effort on the patrols that Roger worked out,” Mike said.

“Ah, the joys of all that power and responsibility,” said Ravi, with a chuckle, standing up and starting to haul his own robes off over his head as Michelle made for the door.

“Go on, Ravi, give us all a show,” said Tammy, pretending to ogle.

She tried not to laugh as she heard Ravi’s usual comeback to any embarrassment behind her.

“Hey, like I always say, if you’ve got it, flaunt it!”

* * * * *

After Mike and Maxi disappeared on their rounds - or a very thinly-disguised excuse for a snogging session, as Tammy put it - Michelle reappeared briefly to stuff her robes in her bag and then skipped off with Tammy and Becky to catch up with their friends further down the train. That left Evan and Ravi alone with Chris, who had settled down in a corner and was staring unseeingly out at the rain-swept landscape whipping by with an anxious look on his face. Evan watched him for a few minutes, then caught Ravi’s eye. “Ravi…?” he muttered quietly.

Thankfully, he took the hint and wandered out. “Oh, I think I see Jason, I was meaning to talk to him.”

That left the two of them alone, and Evan slid the compartment door shut.

“Hey Chris. Everything all right, mate? You look a bit wound up.”

He glanced up at him, his face pinched with worry. “Yeah, fine. Probably.”

“You don’t look like it.”

Chris sighed, and his massive shoulders slumped a little. “I’m being stupid. It’s just… I’m going to have to meet Trish’s parents. They’ll be there, of course, and I know she’ll want to introduce me.”

“Ah. And you’re feeling nervous.”

“I suppose I am. I mean… oh, I don’t know, they’re probably fine. I’m being stupid,” he said again.

Evan gave him a cautious smile. “Well, their daughter seems to have turned out OK. They can’t be that bad.”

“Probably. Do you know them?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe Mum does, but I don’t especially remember her saying anything.”

“Huh. Well, as long as they don’t hate me.”

“Just be yourself. You don’t have to impress anyone, other than maybe Trish.” He grinned, “I think you’ve already done that.”

That got a weak smile. “Maybe. This all seems quite soon, though, you know? I mean, it’s not even three months yet.”

“You’ve got to start somewhere, and you guys seem to really like each other so far. Look, you just have to get through a few minutes this afternoon, and again on the way back, and then you’ve got another six months to figure it out before you have to see them again.”

“You’re right. And who knows, maybe we’ll have split up by then,” he sighed, blowing out his cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be so defeatist! Maybe you’ll go mad and be engaged by then!” Chris blushed, making him laugh, and he clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. And you know what? Trish will be with you. It’s not like she’ll let them get away with giving you too much stick.”

“That’s true, I guess.”

“If you’re worried, maybe talk to her about it. And I am sort of assuming that she’ll have to meet your folks, too, so she might be thinking some of the same stuff.”

Chris looked up, rather startled. “Do you know, I never even thought of that! Blimey, I am, aren’t I? Gah, Mum is going to be _unbearable_ on the way home!”

Evan chuckled, but before he could reply, they both looked up at a tap on the glass. Evan unlocked the door and slid it open to see Trish peering in.

“Hi! I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Nah, we’ve just finished. I was about to go and see Lee and Kenny, actually,” Evan said, getting to his feet. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

Trish slunk into their compartment, blushing, and Evan went out and closed the door behind himself. After a moment’s thought, he drew his wand to slide the lock closed from the outside, then strode off down the train. _They can unlock it when they’re ready_.

* * * * *

The Hogwarts Express wheezed its way tiredly over the last few hundred yards into King’s Cross, the carriages lit irregularly by the harsh floodlights that illuminated the web of intersecting tracks before it plunged into the long tunnel to Platform 9 3/4. Michelle always found that last mile or so, creeping slowly along the deep railway cuttings amidst the houses and warehouses of inner London, felt like it took ages. _It’s the anticipation, or something_, she told herself. Some of the students were already pulling down their luggage, and a few were even impatiently waiting in the corridor, ready to burst out the second the train stopped, but she stayed in her seat and tried to suppress a yawn. She had expected to sleep at least part of the way back, but she’d got caught up with Alicia and Karen and Megs and Grant, and somehow never quite got around to it. Regular lights outside, now, the gas lamps of the platform at last, and the train came to a halt in clouds of steam and a torrent of excited voices and thumps and bangs as people grabbed their luggage and hurried outside. With a shiver of excitement, she grabbed her bag and followed them.

As she stepped down onto the platform, she heard a screech of, “_Dad!_”, and saw Maxi run across the platform to hurl her arms around a stocky, craggy-faced man with thinning grey hair. Grinning, she peered around students and parents through the steam, and then thought to look for Evan. _There he is, so…_

She side-stepped a trio of Slytherins and there they were, next to Evan, who was busy hugging his mum. A few more steps and she could do the same, kissing her dad’s cheek and hugging him tightly, then turning to her mother. Her embrace felt like coming home, and she had to swallow hard a couple of times to stop herself from welling up. She loved her friends, and school was an adventure, but she _missed _her parents - and seeing them again reminded her how much.

“Hi, Mum! Hi Dad!”

“Hello, love, it’s so good to see you! How was the journey?”

They spent an excited few minutes catching up, and she got a hug off Evan’s mum as well. Her dad was watching someone behind her, and she looked back to see Chris talking to his parents, Trish’s hand in his, and another couple beside them.

“We met Roger and Caroline in the Muggle part and brought them through,” explained her dad. “But who’s that with Chris?”

“That’s Trish. She’s Head Girl this year.”

“And by the looks of things, romance is in the air,” said her dad, with a smirk.

Her mum rolled her eyes, “Alan! And I’m guessing that’s Trish’s parents?”

“I think so,” said Evan.

“Well, maybe we won’t disturb them, then.”

Tammy’s parents and Becky’s dad stopped to say ‘Hi’ and pass on the season’s greetings, and so did Maxi and Mike, together with Maxi’s father.

“Merry Christmas, Eoin, I didn’t expect to see you here,” said her mum.

“Ah, I had a few days’ business in London, so I thought I’d make it the end o’ the week an’ stretch things out a bit. It’s not often I get ter meet my wee girl off the train, so here I am.”

“Dad!” Maxi said, looking embarrassed, but he just chuckled and gave her a squeeze. They talked for a bit longer, until Tammy and Becky and their families made off for Diagon Alley and a dinner reservation at the Leaky Cauldron, and then Maxi’s dad glanced at his watch.

“Anyway, I’d better get a move on with these two, we’ve got a six o’clock portkey, an’ they get grumpy if yer late. Merry Christmas, all.”

The three apparated away, leaving just Evan and his mum.

“Well, I suppose we should probably get a wriggle on, too. Are you ready, Evan?”

“I think so,” he said, shrugging his bag up on his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” they chorused back, and then she was gone.

Evan lingered a second longer, smiling at her.

“See you in a few days.”

She swallowed. “’Bye,” she said softly, and with a turn and a swirl of magic, he was gone.

She got a nudge on the shoulder, and looked up to see her mother grinning at her. “It looks like it’s just us left. Now, mind on the job, love, and let’s get home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas song about hippogriffs is apparently from the Celestina Warbeck show at _The Wizarding World of Harry Potter_ in Florida. Normally, I wouldn't include that sort of ephemera but... come on, it's just too perfect not to!


	13. Christmas with the Taylors

Anisha Taylor watched her daughter prowl around the kitchen with fond exasperation. “For heaven’s sake, love, go and sit down! You won’t make him get here any faster.”

She got a half-hearted scowl in reply, but Michelle did go through into the sitting room and let her get on with Christmas dinner, and she suppressed a smile. Michelle had been as excited as ever for Christmas morning and their usual little rituals, with fresh bread baked just in time for them to wake up and eat with jam and hot chocolate while they opened the presents in their stockings. These days, they all contributed nibbles and treats to a central pile which was then allocated to a stocking via a useful little randomising spell that meant there was at least some surprise for the recipient.

And, as with the last couple of years, Michelle was _adorably_ flustered by Evan and Rachael coming to join them for Christmas dinner. There was the long shower, several changes of outfit across the morning, various hairstyles, the makeup applied, removed, and reapplied, and of course, the anxious pacing. As her husband put it, it was brilliant to watch, a guinea a box, but how on earth the two survived being at school together was a mystery.

As, of course, was how on earth they were not already dating. Michelle’s feelings for him were no mystery, and to see them together it was plain that Evan adored her with quiet intensity. Anisha had seen him grow from a boy into a fine young man, but in some ways, he hadn’t changed much since she had first met him, being towed along behind Michelle as she stepped off the pre-Christmas Hogwarts Express. He was quiet and rather self-contained, quite confident in a way that Michelle wasn’t, and he had waited for Michelle’s breathless introduction before shaking their hands and introducing himself more formally in a way she didn’t quite expect from someone of his age. They had only had time to exchange a few words before another woman had stepped out of the crowd behind him.

She remembered Rachael vaguely from school, a thin, almost frail, blonde girl two or three years behind her in Ravenclaw. Sean, her husband, she remembered even less well, and by the time she had met Evan for the first time, he was long gone. She found out later that he had stopped off at the apothecary on the way home from work one May evening in 1981, and stepped out straight into a burst of green light. There was no reason beyond the war and not much of one in it, and the culprit was never found.

Perhaps the best thing about her daughter being Sorted into Hufflepuff was the tight-knit gang of friends she had fallen into - not without some difficulty at first, but by the summer after her first year, she was flooing back and forth across the country to one friend’s house or other almost on a daily basis. They missed their two Irish friends, of course, but tried to make up for it with a steady stream of owls and letters. The Diggory house was a frequent destination whenever the group got together, but just as often it would be just Michelle and Evan, either she at his home or he at hers. This meant that the parents got to know each other, too, and Anisha forged a strong friendship with Rachael in her own right.

What had happened in the spring, Amos and Charity’s loss, was the ultimate nightmare. Hogwarts, especially under Albus Dumbledore, was generally regarded as a bastion of safety to send their children - the normal accidents and misadventures of magical life notwithstanding. Instead, all of a sudden, a wonderful young man was brutally taken from them, and a former Death Eater was unmasked as passing for a teacher, and suddenly things didn’t seem quite so safe any more. The Ministry's added involvement this year had seemed like a necessary and welcome step.

Or at least, it had done until the nature of the Ministry’s involvement had trickled back to them in letters from their children. From the new woman Umbridge’s petty malevolence, to the increasingly-draconian school rules, to the heavily-restricted curriculum in Defence Against the Dark Arts, her initial relief had quickly turned to concern - and, as the letters became more bleak and ever-more severe regulations were announced, severe disquiet. Suddenly, that loose network of parents around the Hufflepuff friends became more of an alliance and sounding-board to discuss their worries. It didn’t help that none of them had any inside contacts with the Ministry that perhaps Amos Diggory could have provided in former times, but going on the proclamations in the _Daily Prophet_, the Ministry’s position was clear enough, and especially given that their children only had half a year to go before finishing their education, that any protest would be unlikely to effect a change in time to matter. Instead, reluctantly, they concluded that the only thing to do was to tell their kids to batten down the hatches and ride it out as best they could.

The insistent ping of the oven was enough to drag her out of her reverie and remind her to put the potatoes in, and just as she did so, she heard Murphy, their Golden Retriever, start to bark excitedly. She shut the oven door and cocked an ear towards the door as she re-set the timer.

“Merry Christmas, Alan!” came Rachael’s familiar voice, echoed by Evan’s quieter, deeper tone.

“Merry Christmas, you two! Do come in, it’s miserable out there. Quiet down, Murphy! D’you need a hand with anything, Rachael?”

“No thanks, I think we’re fine, we’ll just take this through to Anisha.”

And sure enough, the kitchen door opened and suddenly Rachael was there, shedding carefully-wrapped desserts onto the table while Evan deposited a couple of bottles of wine and put down a large bag of presents.

The two women exchanged hugs and the season’s greetings, and then she turned to Evan. He was as tall as her husband and had filled out even more since the summer, and she had to stretch a little to give him a hug.

“Happy Christmas, dear!” She grinned at Rachael, “Gosh, he’s getting big, isn’t he? What are you feeding him?”

“Just dragon dung in his boots and regular watering,” she replied, trying to hide her laughter.

“I wondered what the smell was. Well, there you have it - my life as a potted plant. Thanks, Mum!”

“I’ll take your coats for you.” Anisha nudged the bag of presents and added, “Evan, you can take those into the next room for me, if you like - and I think there’s someone waiting for you!”

_A _normal_ teenage boy ought to blush when teased about his not-quite-girlfriend_, she thought, with a trace of exasperation. Evan’s smile, however was completely natural, and he walked out without a shred of embarrassment.

“Bad, was it, this morning?”

Rachael was watching her with a knowing grin.

“Ugh, you’ve never seen such a tizzy! Didn’t know what to wear, the makeup, the hair… even the bloody earrings must have changed at least twice, and all!”

Rachael laughed. “And yet, they go to school together.”

“How ever she gets anything done if she’s like this, I don’t know! Honestly! Can’t we just lock them both in a broom cupboard until they sort it all out?”

Rachael glanced over her shoulder at the sound of laughter from the living room. “It wouldn’t work. I think Evan’s decided that she has to make the first move, and he’ll wait for as long as it takes. He can be a bit like his father, sometimes.”

“I don’t know where Michelle gets it from, I certainly wasn’t this dense when I was her age, and neither was Alan!”

“The bizarre thing is, I don’t think it’s that they don’t know. Infuriating, sometimes, isn’t it?”

“You said it.” Anisha let out a sigh of frustration, and started summoning wine glasses from the cupboard. “Well, dinner can pretty much take care of itself for a while, and I think I need a drink, after all that. Is red all right with you?”

“Ooh, yes, please. That Merlot I brought is a nice one.”

“That sounds perfect. Great Uncle Pardeep’s with us, of course, and he brought a couple of bottles as well.”

“Just as long as he doesn’t drink them all on his own! How is the old boy?”

“‘As well as can be expected when you’re ton-up and still ticking’,” she quoted, rolling her eyes fondly. “He’s been having trouble with his hip again, but flatly refuses to use his stick or go back to the Healer.” She rummaged briefly in the mess on the table. “Now, where did Alan put the corkscrew?”

Rachael just looked at her with a raised eyebrow and drew her wand, popping the cork out with a tap.

She hesitated, then shook her head, feeling faintly foolish. “Or that’d work, yes. I think Alan must be rubbing off on me.”

“Maybe you’re in more need of a drink than you thought! I’ll just pop through and see what everyone else is having.”

Anisha had to admit that she was desperately curious to see her daughter’s reaction now that the object of her affections had arrived, but when they carried everything through it was something of an anti-climax to find her simply perched on the couch next to Evan, and the two youngsters deep in conversation with Uncle Pardeep. Sitting _rather close_, perhaps, and with a happy glow on her face, but without actually touching. _Oh well, she seems to be having a good time, which is the important thing. Just as long as they don’t make the old boy choke!_ Pardeep’s laugh had become rather more wheezy recently, and she hoped he wasn’t getting a bad chest. _Still, that’s enough worrying for now_. She dropped into her chair with a sigh, and raised her glass.

“Merry Christmas, everyone! Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

* * * * *

Christmas dinner was a success, Anisha considered, sitting back in the lounge with a glass of port and a scattering of wrapping paper at her feet. The ham had turned out moist and flavourful, the Yorkshire puddings were crisp and fluffy, and everything had finished cooking at pretty much the same time so it was all ready to go on the table at once. She grinned to herself. Trying to prevent Michelle’s annual play-fight with Evan over the brandy custard by bringing out two jugs hadn’t worked, as the two pretended to squabble over which one had more in it, instead. _Play-fight? Play-flirt, perhaps!_ Either way, with everything cleared away to the kitchen for Alan to wash up later - there was no way on earth she was going to do it! - they had retreated to the lounge to open presents and let everything digest. She was pleased with her haul; her favourite perfume from Alan, the new gardening book by Tilden Toots from Michelle, a bath bomb set from Rachael, and a set of Pippin’s hand creams and lotions from Evan. Great Uncle Pardeep mainly got food and sweets, as usual - she made a mental note to get the smoked salmon in the fridge as soon as possible - but she was a little worried about the bottle of MacFusty’s Hebridean Gold that Rachael gave him.

She shook her head to herself, and had another sip of port. _When will I stop worrying about the old boy? He’s long since old enough to look after himself, even if he doesn’t do it very well, sometimes_. There were just two presents left unopened under the tree, and she hadn’t missed that they were the two youngsters’ gifts to each other. _Now, just sit back and watch the show_.

“Just two left - which one of you’s going first?” she said innocently.

“Here,” said Michelle, reaching under the tree and handing Evan a flat, squarish package. “This one’s from me.”

“Thanks!” He slid a thumb under the tape at each end and in the middle, then folded the paper back and lifted out a brown, leather folio.

“Open it,” she prompted him, and he undid the catch and lifted the cover. “It’s a field notebook cover. It’s waterproof, and you should be able to write in it in a monsoon and it’ll still keep the paper dry.”

“And it’s already got a notebook in it, and a couple of quills, too,” he said, turning a few pages and picking up one of the quills.

“They’re self-inking. You can tuck them in there, see?”

He looked up at her with a warm smile. “Thank you! That’s going to be really useful.”

Michelle smiled at him, blushing happily. “I did the charms myself, although I got Professor Flitwick to check them over for me.” She gave him a small grin, “It’d be no good if you started using it and everything went wrong the first time it rained!”

“I’m sure they’re perfect. Thanks, Michelle!”

Anisha couldn’t stop herself for anything. “And I think the last one’s yours, love, that one must be from Evan.”

Evan’s present was large and rather floppy, and Michelle wasted no time in pulling it into her lap and ripping it open.

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” she breathed, staring down into her lap.

“Well, let’s see, then.”

She held up a cream-coloured, cable-knit jumper with a rolled neck, then stood up and pulled it on. Anisha had to admit that it suited her very well, even if it clung to her daughter’s figure rather more than she would have liked.

“So fluffy!” said Michelle happily, hugging herself.

“It’s merino wool and wild haggis hair, so it ought to keep you toasty without getting too hot,” he explained, watching her with a smile.

“Thank you, I love it!”

She suppressed her grin behind a final swig of port as Michelle threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, blushing furiously.

“That’s a relief!” said Evan, with a chuckle. “Oh, and one other thing. It’s not really a present, but I just had to get it.”

He passed her a gift bag and, looking curious, Michelle unfolded the top and looked in for a second, then collapsed back in laughter.

“What is it?” Alan asked, intrigued.

With shaking hands, Michelle held up a small cuddly toy of a hippogriff. “It’s perfect!”

The three parents exchanged a confused look.

“I think you might have to explain that one,” wheezed Uncle Pardeep.

Hugging the toy to her chest, she explained her visit to the hippogriffs and the later leg-pulling by their friends. “We’re going to have to call it Storm,” she concluded, beaming happily at Evan.

“Caroline will be heart-broken to miss out, you saw how much she likes you.”

That made her laugh, and Anisha took the chance to slip out to the kitchen on pretence of putting the kettle on. Once there, she let out a sigh and slumped back against the door. _Oh Michelle, I love you very dearly, my darling girl, but how can you possibly be this _dense_?! The lyrics! _My baby _gave me a hippogriff. He just gave you a hippogriff, so what does that make him, for crying out loud!_

Shaking her head once again, she quickly filled the kettle and set it to boil with a twist of her wand, then went back to the lounge.

“I think I’m going to have to go and do something, or I’ll be asleep in a minute,” Alan was saying, stretching in his armchair.

“Those dishes are still waiting,” she reminded him, with a grin.

“I’m not _that_ desperate just yet,” he said, with a chuckle.

“We could take Murphy for a walk?” suggested Michelle. “What do you think, Evan?”

“Yeah, why not? Are you coming, Mum?”

“I would, but Byron will sulk for a week if he smells dog on me.”

“A martyr to your kneazle, then. Anisha?”

“No thanks, I think I’ll stay here in the warm.”

“Right! Well, I need to go and change, I won’t be a sec,” said Michelle, darting for the stairs.

Anisha heard her thunder up to her room, and followed much more slowly to the kitchen to get the tea on. She’d barely got everything brewing and pulled the cups out before Michelle was back again. The carefully-chosen outfit that had been agonised over all morning had been discarded and replaced by ratty old jeans and an even older pullover, and she was carrying a thick, padded jacket, welly socks, and a scarf.

Rachael came out to join her in the kitchen as Alan, Michelle, and Evan wrapped up for the outside, and the two women watched the three of them head up the muddy farm lane, Murphy gambolling excitedly around them. Alan’s arm whipped forward and the dog raced off after the soaring tennis ball, while the two youngsters walked close together, side by side. She heard the slow, shuffling feet of Uncle Pardeep behind her and said to Rachael, “Unbelievable, aren’t they?”

Rachael chuckled, and shook her head. “Just a bit. I think I’m starting to come around to your idea of locking them in a broom cupboard together.”

“You leave those two alone!” Anisha turned in surprise to see Uncle Pardeep watching them with a severe look on his face. “Just be glad that they’ve both found someone that truly cares about them. What more could you want for your children?”

She felt an uncomfortable twist of shame. “Well. I feel suitably scolded,” she said, trying to make light of it.

After a moment, his stern look softened. “They’re like kids everywhere - put pressure on them, and they’ll do the exact opposite. They’ll get there in their own time.”

“I suppose you’re right - and at least they haven’t raced off in the other direction. I am very definitely _not_ ready to be a grandmother yet!”

“There are days I’m not even sure I’m ready to be a mother yet,” added Rachael, puffing her cheeks out. “And I have to admit, Evan could be a whole lot more difficult than he is.”

Uncle Pardeep smiled kindly at her, his gnarled hands gripping the back of one of the kitchen chairs to take some weight off his feet. “You’ve done a fine job, m’dears, both of you. Now the rest is up to them, and you’ve got to let them get on with the next part of their lives on their own terms.”

Rachael grinned - a little wistfully, Anisha thought. “It’s like Sean used to say - ‘How should I know what to do? He didn’t come with a manual!’”

The three of them laughed, although Uncle Pardeep’s chuckles broke off into coughing, and he cleared his throat noisily before adding, “None of us do. That’s why you can only do your best - and I think you have, and succeeded, too.”

Anisha looked out into the gloomy, late-afternoon light, where three figures were just visible at the top of the lane, two of them still shoulder to shoulder. _He’s right, they are good kids. I just hope they know what they’re doing. _


	14. Return to Hogwarts

The hands on the station clock stood at barely a minute to eleven, but as much as Tammy craned her head out through the carriage window, there was no sign of them. The last students on the platform were climbing aboard, and doors all along the carriages were slamming behind them as parents milled around, saying their final farewells. The engine of the Express was hissing like a giant kettle and ready for the off. Everything was ready - except them. With a sharp exhalation of annoyance, she pulled her head back in and slammed the louvre.

“Where the hell are Mike and Maxi?” she demanded.

“You really want to know?” said Ravi, with an insinuating smirk that got a few knowing laughs.

“You didn’t see them?” asked Michelle, from her seat.

“No.” The train’s whistle shrilled loudly, and they heard the first cough of steam that drew the train into motion. “Well, if they haven’t snuck aboard somewhere, it looks like they’re walking.”

“No-one’s heard from her and Mike in the last couple of days, have they?” asked Becky, but all she got in reply were shrugs and apologetic looks. “Huh. I didn’t see any Weasleys on the platform, either.”

“I wrote to them at Christmas, but my owl came back unanswered,” said Ravi, unexpectedly serious for a change. “Merlin knows where they’ve disappeared to, but I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Whatever it is, I hope it’s not-”

They all looked up as the compartment door rattled open to see their two Irish friends grinning at them from the corridor. Both were flushed and panting, but seemingly none the worse for wear.

“Did ya miss us?” asked Mike, grinning hugely.

“You nearly bloody missed us!” said Tammy indignantly, putting her hands on her hips. “Where the hell were you?!”

“We got held up a bit,” said Maxi, with a sidelong glance at her boyfriend that didn’t need interpretation.

“Best we don’t ask, then! And after all the stick you gave me before Christmas, too.”

“Ach, that’s different!” Maxi said loftily, before laughing loudly and stepping in to give her a hug. “Happy New Year, Tammy! How was Christmas?”

They did the rounds of everyone in the compartment until Mike squeezed into a seat between Becky and Chris, Maxi sat on his lap, and Ravi found a space cross-legged on the floor, and they could all catch up as a group. Despite the fact that only a couple of weeks had passed since they were last together, there was plenty to talk about, and loads of cheerful chatter and laughter that kept them occupied as the train raced steadily northwards. It was almost possible to overlook Evan wedged quietly in the corner without speaking. He didn’t look particularly put out or grumpy, and she saw him smile at a few of the jokes flying around, but mostly he just seemed to gaze out the window at nothing much, a thoughtful look on his face. This meant that Michelle, of course, kept looking sideways at him in poorly-disguised concern.

_They’re not any different around each other so it’s not like they’ve fallen out, but Michelle’s definitely worried about Mr. Broody, there. Gah, I wish I understood those two!_

She waited until the others had gone in search of their other friends on the train before cornering him.

“Hey, Evan. Everything all right?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, and blinked. “Oh, sorry, Tammy. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You seem a bit out of it, today.”

He gave her a rather mechanical smile. “Sorry. Just thinking about things, I guess.”

She gave up. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn't going to talk about it - at least not to her, anyway.

“I’m going to see where Megs and Emma have got to. You don’t want to come?”

“No, thanks.”

“Ah, well then. Catch you later, all right?”

His smile was a bit more genuine this time. “Say Hi from me, too.”

But despite that brief spark of engagement, she noticed as she stepped out of the compartment that he simply went back to his thoughts, staring unseeingly out at the passing landscape.

* * * * *

They reached Hogsmeade well after nightfall, and took carriages up to the school as usual. Light shone welcomingly from its many windows, but Michelle couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. Now that the holidays were over, the thought of their N.E.W.T.s loomed ever larger and more unavoidably in her mind. There was nothing for it but to knuckle down and do her best in true, Hufflepuff style, but she knew that the amount of work to be done was daunting, and she wasn’t the only one who regarded the prospect of class in the morning with trepidation.

There was one surprise waiting for them in the Great Hall when they walked in for breakfast. There was a familiar cluster of redheads back at the Gryffindor table once again and seemingly none the worse for wear, surrounded by a large gaggle of their friends and housemates, all talking excitedly. Michelle’s friends settled for giving them a wave and making sure to linger in the Entrance Hall after breakfast to intercept them on the way out to Herbology for the first class of the day.

“Hi guys. Everything all right? Everyone’s been wondering where you’ve been,” said Tammy, as they fell in with the Weasleys and the other Gryffindors.

“Did you miss us?” said Fred, with his usual, grinning smirk.

“Well, we were hardly going to miss the sudden peace and quiet at the end of term, were we?” said Mike archly.

“True, true. Anyway, something came up rather suddenly.”

“Dad had a bit of an accident, and they had to cart him off to St. Mungo's,” George added.

“Oh,” said Tammy, taken aback, amid a general rumble of concern, “Is he going to be all right?”

“Yeah, he’s fine now,” Fred said cheerfully.

“He probably would have healed up sooner if he hadn’t let some lunatic sew him up muggle-style,” added his brother, with a laugh and a shake of his head.

There was a chorus of disbelief from their friends. “What? No way!”

“No, I swear! Sewed him up with a needle and thread, just like a pair of ripped trousers.”

“You’re making that up!” said Maxi. “That’s just, just… I mean, come on!”

Fred shrugged. “That’s Dad for you.”

“Mum nearly killed him when she found out.”

“Mad as a box of frogs, always has been.”

“When did you get back, anyway? We didn’t see you on the train,” asked Tammy.

“We checked the Whomping Willow for flying cars, and everything,” said Ravi, to scattered laughter.

“Do keep up, Ravi, it’s only our dear, idiot brother that’s daft enough to do something like that,” said George. Fred shook his head in mock sorrow.

“Outdone in the stupid stakes by our very own baby brother. Sad but true.”

“Anyway, we were running a bit late so we got the Knight Bus. We got in just after dinner, I think.”

“Cor, rather you than me,” said Lee, with a shudder. “Last time I took the Knight Bus, I nearly puked!”

Professor Sprout was waiting for them by Greenhouse Three with a cheerful smile.

“Morning, everyone, welcome back! Get inside before we let all the heat out, please, and you’ll need your dragon-hide gloves. There’s lots to get through today, so quickly as you can!”

Michelle hung back until she was the last one in line, and even then she needed a deep breath to steady herself. _Just like that, we’re back into it. Let’s hope it’s not as bad as I’ve been thinking_.

* * * * *

By the evening, it was clear that it wasn’t as bad as Michelle had feared - it was much, much worse than that. Professor Sprout’s outline of the coming term was daunting, and it only got worse in Charms, where Professor Flitwick revealed they would be focusing on relational charms.

“It’s not enough to simply perform the charms, you must understand how and why, and be able to apply this in a practical manner for your examinations. You can be very sure that this will come up in your N.E.W.T.s.”

“Oh Merlin, it’s enough to bring you out in Umbridge-itis,” she groaned to Trish, as she staggered out of Transfiguration at the end of the day, feeling almost bruised by Professor McGonagall’s sternly-delivered lesson outline as well.

Trish gave her a twisted smile, and said in a confidential voice, “Well, if it’s that bad, see Fred and George, they’ll sort you out.”

Michelle grinned at her. “Why, Miss Head Girl, I’m shocked that you’d even suggest such a thing!”

Trish laughed, “I don’t know what you could possibly mean!” She glanced at her watch, and stopped at the landing of a staircase that was about to turn towards Gryffindor Tower. “Anyway, I ought to be going. Tell Chris I said ‘Hi’, won’t you?”

“Of course - see you later!”

Back in her dorm room, she sat on her bed and tried to just breathe deeply and settle her mind down for a few minutes before contemplating homework. It helped her feel a little less overwhelmed by everything, before she roused herself to pick out what she needed and head out into the common room.

She found a seat with her friends between Chris and Becky, sliding her textbook onto the table and unfurling a fresh scroll. The common room was mostly full but silent barring the sounds of industrious writing and the occasional turning page. Even the younger students were hard at work, perhaps taking a cue from their elders. Dipping her quill into her ink pot, Michelle tried to focus.

It started somewhere amongst the sixth-years, Roger Stebbins, probably. Almost inaudibly, he began to hum under his breath. Half a minute later, he had gone from humming to half-whispering, half-singing the opening verse of one of Wands Afire’s most famous slow ballads.

_ When I saw you,_

_ Standing there,_

_ Two hearts collided,_

Very softly, Kevin and Leah joined in, then Ellie from a neighbouring table.

_ Our love ignited,_

_ You know it’s true._

More voices joined them, and she was almost surprised to find that she, too, was whispering along with them.

_ There was magic,_

_ All around us, _

_ And inside us,_

_ In the air._

The rest of her table had joined in by this point, too, and Jasmin and Owen were providing an Ooh-Ahh backing duet in lieu of instruments. Michelle nearly giggled at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, but that would spoil things. She dared to look up, and nearly lost it again at the sight of Chris holding the nib end of his quill and tapping the feathery end on the table in time to the music. As she watched, he sat back, picked up a second quill, and started full-on air-drumming, his eyes closed and mouthing along with the words. Michelle’s voice wavered and she had to stop, her chest hurting from trying to hold in her laughter, but the others continued, their voices never rising above a murmur.

When the final words of the song died away, silence fell once more in the common room, broken only by the scratching of quills and the steady hiss of the fire. Looking around, she could see grins on many of the faces bent over their homework, and shook her head in disbelief.

_Did that really just happen?_

* * * * *

They came up to breakfast the next morning with the uncomfortable realisation that they really were back to reality and the previous day hadn’t just been a horrible dream.

“I feel even worse today, like ‘Oh Merlin, this really is my life for the next six months!’” Becky summed it up with a groan, as she flopped into her seat.

“Best we get used to it now, then,” Maxi said stoutly, getting her some disgruntled looks from the others.

“Ugh! Stop being so disgustingly sensible!” Becky sulked.

Ravi nudged her shoulder gently, “There’s nothing for it, I can’t stand it any longer! Becky, darling, run away with me!” he exclaimed dramatically. “We’ll live free and uneducated in a caravan near Bognor Regis!”

That made her laugh, and she winked at him and bumped his shoulder back. “Oh Ravi, I thought you’d never ask!”

“Hark at the lovebirds,” chuckled Mike.

They dug into breakfast with smiles on their faces and a more cheerful outlook. The arrival of the post owls almost went unnoticed at first, but there was a sort of startled squawk from the Gryffindor table, and quickly a low, anxious murmur spread through the Great Hall, becoming louder and louder.

“What is it, Roger?” asked Mike, looking along their table to where Roger Stebbins seemed frozen in his seat. Wordlessly, he held up his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

_ ** MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN** _

Michelle felt a sudden, shivery swoop of fear in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t need to read any more, the ten sneering, haggard-looking faces staring out of the page said enough. Up at the high table, even Professor Dumbledore looked concerned, deep in intense discussion with Professor McGonagall.

“You want to read?” Roger asked.

“Go on, then,” said Tammy, but Michelle fixed her eyes on the table and pushed her bowl away. Her stomach had shrunk to the size of a pea, and eating seemed an impossibility.

“You all right?” Evan murmured from beside her, with a gentle squeeze of her forearm.

“Yeah, I guess,” she whispered back, but even that didn’t dispel the unsettling feeling that squirmed around in her guts. She made a thoroughly unwilling part of the audience as Tammy read through the article, but short of getting up and running out of the Great Hall, there was no avoiding it.

“‘-rallied around Sirius Black as their leader’,” Tammy concluded, with a scornful snort. “Well, that’s great. Just marvellous, Sirius Black as well! Bloody Fudge, they may as well just install a revolving door at Azkaban.”

“I don’t think ol’ Fudge was the one sitting there, guardin’ the prisoners,” Maxi pointed out. “Twat that he is, mind.”

“That’s not the point. Oh, goody, ‘On no account should any of these individuals be approached’. Well, no kidding, you blithering idiot! Anyway, thanks, Roger.”

Roger reluctantly took his newspaper back like it was diseased.

It seemed ridiculous to simply go off to class like it was just another school day, but that was exactly what they did. Most of the school were talking volubly about the escape, but Michelle kept to herself and tried to avoid the incessant gossip and speculation. That got a lot harder in Potions, thanks to the beaming moron behind her.

“I’m surprised you haven’t run away yet, Taylor. You’re scared of your own shadow half the time, and now you’ve actually got something to be scared of,” Halkett hissed in a vicious tone.

She tried to block out the hateful voice and concentrate on her work. _Three clockwise, one back, wait, two, three, four. Three clockwise-_

“The mutant offspring of a Muggleborn, like you? You’ll be right at the top of their list, Mudblood! Black and Lestrange are going to have fun with you, I’d even bet they-”

“Miss Halkett, concentrate on your work rather than your pathetic, teenage jealousies,” Snape drawled coldly from the front of the room, not even bothering to look up. 

Anastasia Halkett flushed darkly, and mouthed, ‘They’re coming’, at her, then looked down at her potion and swore loudly, hurriedly shovelling in another handful of dried lacewing flies.

Michelle's potion was a pleasing shade of lilac, with light, gelatinous bubbles no bigger than a knut. _I’m damned if I’ll let her screw up my potion as well_, she thought, checking her notes once again. _Then again, why am I letting her mouth off at me about this? Damn it, it’s the same thing all over again._

She kept careful track of her potion’s progress despite the hate she could almost feel burning against her back, and when Professor Snape called time, she was confident that everything was as perfect as she could make it. When she turned her sample in, she noticed that Halkett had managed to salvage her own potion, but perhaps it lacked the same clarity and sparkle as hers. In all, she was feeling quite cheerful when she grabbed her bag and fell in beside Chris, and very glad to be leaving the Potions classroom behind them.

“Yeah, you’d better stick together. It won’t do you any good, but it’ll make you easier to find when the time comes - and it is coming.”

Michelle restrained a frustrated sigh, and kept walking. _Oh, will you just shut up, you tiresome,_ loathsome _bitch!_

“They’ll be coming for the half-breeds and the traitors and the Mudbloods like you.”

“You’d better be careful then, hadn’t you?”

It took half a second before Michelle realised that she’d actually said it aloud, and there was a gasp behind her and a screeched hex that smashed her into the wall. Stunned, she slid down into a heap and felt the impact of a second spell in her belly, but a third was deflected right in front of her face. She lay there, her head ringing and her shoulder aching and tingly and half-numb at the same time, feeling something trickle freely down her chin, until she realised that Chris was there, holding a shielding spell over her, and Anastasia dangled by the scruff of the neck at the point of Professor Snape’s wand. Other than her deep, shivery breaths as she tried not to cry from the pain and the shock, the corridor was unnaturally silent.

“Mr. Brady, take her to the hospital wing,” Snape spat coldly, before turning his withering glare on the other girl, who gulped and suddenly looked afraid. “And as for you, Halkett…”

With a flare of his black cloak, Professor Snape whirled on the spot, still carrying Anastasia in front of him. The door to the classroom slammed shut behind them with a boom.

“Michelle, are you all right?” Chris said anxiously, crouching over her and reaching out a tentative hand. “How bad is it?”

“Don’t just grab her, for Merlin’s sake!”

Chris looked back over his shoulder in annoyance, “What do you want, Engel?”

The tall, slim Slytherin boy simply looked down at them coolly, his face impassive. “I thought you might need some help, Brady. Or at the very least, someone to watch your back.”

“Chris!” she cut him off before he could argue, hating the small crack in her voice. “Thanks, Engel.”

He smiled rather enigmatically. “Can you stand? All right, then, let’s get you to the hospital wing. Have you got her, Brady? Arm under there. One-two-three-up’s a daisy! There we go.”

Michelle sucked in a sharp breath at the stab of pain that shot through her side and shoulder, but she clutched Chris’ massive arm firmly with her good hand and let Engel carefully support her bad arm close to her side.

“All right? Steady, now. Let’s go.”

Together, the three of them slowly made their way up out of the dungeons and into the main castle. They got a few surprised and suspicious looks on the stairs, but kept going.

“How did you know?” Engel asked quietly, as they made it to the corridor to the hospital wing.

Michelle looked up from concentrating on her next step in confusion. “Know what?”

“Halkett’s family isn’t anywhere near as pureblood as she pretends. She tries to keep it secret, of course, but her grandmother and her father were both Muggleborn.”

“And of course you know that,” she said, failing to keep the contempt out of her voice. “So is my dad, and I refuse to be ashamed of that.” _I thought you were different_.

Engel just looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, because unfortunately you have to know these things in Slytherin these days. And yes, because I remember the beasting she got from her own house when it came out in third year. And still, despite that, or maybe because of that, she’s one of the most virulently bigoted idiots in the house, or at least, one of the most vocal about it.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, to have it thrown back in her face like that really hits her where it hurts most. Not that she doesn’t deserve it after the abuse she’s given you and anyone else she thinks she can get away with it on. Now, then, mind the doors.”

Engel held one of the doors wide open for her, and Chris held the other, making sure she could shuffle through without bumping her injured side. The door to the matron’s office clicked open, and Madam Pomfrey strode briskly out.

“Well, what do we have here, then? Let’s get you to a bed, Miss Taylor.”

The nurse stepped to her side and took her injured arm, steering her to the nearest bed. When she thought to look around, Engel had already vanished, leaving Chris watching her with concern.

“Thank you, Mr. Brady, I’ll take it from here. You can wait over by my office.”

The nurse pulled a curtain around the bed and sat her down, first healing a cut on her cheek and dispelling a stinging hex on her belly, and then gently stripping off her robes, cardigan, and shirt to get a good look at her injured side. After a couple of healing spells, she made Michelle raise her arm, and twist and stretch, before adding one more.

“That should do it, I think, wait there a moment and I’ll sort out the bruises, as well.” She bustled off, leaving Michelle to pull her robes up around her torso self-consciously until the nurse came back with some emollient that removed her bruises, including one on her hip that she hadn’t noticed. “There, I think that’s everything. Are you feeling OK?”

“Yes, thanks. Can I go?” she asked, buttoning up her shirt.

“I’d like you to rest quietly here until dinner time. You should also eat this,” said the nurse, handing her a couple of squares of chocolate.

Michelle smiled. “You want me to rest quietly, then give me stuff to put me on a sugar rush?”

“Healing uses quite a bit of energy. This will help, and I expect you’ll still feel a little tired afterwards.”

“Well, OK, then. Can I see Chris first, though?”

“Of course. I’ll send him in.”

She quickly did up her cardigan and shrugged out of her robes entirely, balling them up on the end of the bed just as Chris stepped around the curtain.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, quickly turning around, “Sorry, sorry, Madam Pomfrey said you were done.”

“I am done, now turn around,” she said, trying to suppress a laugh.

He looked bashfully back at her over his shoulder, then turned around again. “You’re all right, then?”

“Yeah. Thanks for everything this afternoon, Chris. And I can see that Defence practice has paid off for you, at least.”

“I was too slow, though, wasn’t I?”

“No, you weren’t, and your shield was a good one. Thank you.”

“She’s keeping you in, though?” Chris asked, awkwardly changing the subject.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Only until dinner time, so I’ll see you then.”

“Oh. Right, then. I’ll see you at dinner.”

With Chris gone, she kicked off her shoes and swung her legs up onto the bed, pulling a blanket over herself. _It’s not like I’m actually going to sleep, but…_

She was pleasantly warm, and felt a gentle hand brush her hair back off her forehead. Opening her eyes, she let out a small gasp to see Evan looking down at her.

“Did I wake you?” he asked softly, and she felt a shiver at the concern in his voice.

“No, it’s all right. What time is it?”

“Just after six.”

Her eyes flew wide in surprise, “Oh, bollocks! How did that happen?” She threw back the blanket and sat up. “I was only supposed to have a lie down for a few minutes!”

“It looks like you needed it.” He was quiet for a bit, then added, “Chris told me what happened.”

_Oh. Of course he did_. “I’ll have to thank your friend, Engel,” she said lightly. “Are you ready for dinner?”

For a moment, he looked like he was going to say more, but then simply stepped back and let her retrieve her shoes and throw her robes back on. A thought struck her, and she began to look around.

“Chris took your bag back to the dorms,” said Evan, correctly picking up on the reason for her search.

“Oh, OK. Well, let’s go, then, shall we?” She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms above her head, and then pulled the curtain aside. There was no sign of Madam Pomfrey, so they simply set off for the Great Hall together. “What did you get up to after class?”

Evan puffed out his cheeks. “Well, the good news just keeps coming. I went and saw Hagrid this afternoon, and apparently Umbridge has put him on probation.”

She felt a twinge of sympathy for the big, cheerful professor. “Like Professor Trelawney?”

“Yeah.” Evan shook his head, “Poor bloke, he seemed rather resigned to it all. I was helping him rub his salamanders with chilli powder, so I got to talk to him for a bit. It’s not exactly a secret that Umbridge has had it out for him for ages.”

She made a face as they started to descend the stairs. “Isn’t there _any _good news?”

He grinned at her, “Fred and George are selling these mad hats that make your head disappear when you put them on. Two galleons each, if you’re interested.”

She giggled. “That sounds like fun, but maybe not two galleons worth.”

“Well, your birthday is coming up next month, don’t forget.”

“Yours is even closer, and I _really_ need to get you something next weekend.”

“Don’t go mad, it’s barely after Christmas, after all.”

“You say that every year,” she said smiling at him fondly. “And it’s not like you let that stop you from getting me something.”

They continued their friendly argument all the way down to the Great Hall, and it was only once she saw their friends waiting for them that she realised that he’d somehow managed to make her forget all about Halkett. _Ha! Like I keep trying to tell myself, she’s not worth my time_. She glanced over at her best friend, and swallowed. _He is, though. And so are the rest of my friends_.

* * * * *

The next morning, the familiar and hated black-bordered posters had made their reappearance on the school’s noticeboards.

_ ** — BY ORDER OF —** _

_ ** THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS** _

_ Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects _

_ they are paid to teach._

_ The above is in accordance with_

_ ** Educational Decree Number Twenty-six** _ _._

_ Dolores Jane Umbridge_

_ HIGH INQUISITOR_

_ 10 January, 1996_

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tammy demanded incredulously. “I mean, if I ask one of the teachers if I can go to the bathroom during class, does that mean they can’t answer?”

“Ah, it might work with a bit o’ creative thinking,” said Mike. “Say yer doin’ Defence. If there’s Boggarts in the bogs, or Kappas in the crappers, I guess that would make it strictly related to Umbridge’s subject. It might also make it a bit difficult to do yer business, though!”

“Or you could wait for Herbology; there _is_ such a thing as bathroom mould, after all, and you’d be less likely to get eaten” Ravi pointed out.

“Ya’d better hope so, or Tammy’s gonna be sittin’ with her legs crossed ‘til the end o’ the lesson!” Maxi snickered.

The decree was the subject of endless, disbelieving jokes from the students throughout the day, although not everyone was finding it funny. Michelle, Evan, and Chris ran into Roger Davies in the library during a free period, leafing angrily through books on law and wizard rights. Vicky Frobisher, the pretty, blonde Gryffindor sixth-year, was nearby, fetching him new books and taking others away for re-shelving, hanging on every word of his thanks.

“It’s deliberately vague so Umbridge can abuse it,” Roger spat. “She’s giving herself a lever to use against any teachers she doesn’t like, and trying to stop any form of information or communication that she doesn’t control. And on top of that stupid decree, apparently she’s even given herself the right to open all your owl post, too, if she wants.”

“What can we do about it, though?” Michelle asked tentatively.

“That's what I want to find out! There must be something, and it’s unbelievable that Professor Dumbledore hasn’t been able to rein her in before now. I mean, what the hell is he _doing_, up there in his office? We barely ever see him, Umbridge is allowed to get away with murder, and she’s undermining and sabotaging his teachers. _His staff_, not hers! Even if he’s not looking out for us, he ought to be looking after them!”

Michelle glanced up to see Vicky lingering nearby and not-so-subtly listening in. She felt a jolt of anxiety, but then decided that Vicky seemed far more fascinated by the sight of a passionate Roger Davies than anything they might have been saying.

“Maybe he is, and we don’t see it. And he did pull her up that day when she started on about us being an illegal organisation,” Evan pointed out.

“Yeah, but so what? What about all the other times, and he’s not done a damn thing! What’s he doing when kids are getting hexed and Umbridge just sits on her hands and tacitly condones it?”

“She’s Fudge’s right hand, though, and she’s got the full weight of the Ministry behind her,” Michelle pointed out. “He’s got bigger problems than just Hogwarts at the moment, with the whole Ministry thing and now all those old supporters of You-Know-Who on the loose, too.”

“That’s not his problem, _we _are!”

“Actually, mate, it sort of is,” Chris said hesitantly. “I mean, Chief Warlock, and Supreme Mugwump, and all that. He’s probably trying to deal with all this on a bigger level than just the school.”

“You mean, he _was_ Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump. He’s been replaced,” Roger pointed out sourly.

“Well, perhaps, but he’ll still have all the friends and contacts, though, won’t he? I’d be delighted if he could do more to restore some sanity around here, but I just think he’s probably doing things at a level far above what’s visible to us down here at school.”

“He’d better be, and that’s no bloody good when there’s three of my first-years coming back to the tower with hexes on them last night,” Roger growled. “Nothing we couldn’t sort out, I suppose, but it keeps getting more frequent. It’s not right!”

Evan opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Roger gave him a twisted smile, “Come on then, Evan, just say it.”

He bit his lip. “I understand why you’re hacked off, and believe me, we all feel the same way, but at the same time… be careful, mate. Don’t give Umbridge the excuse to take Head Boy off you.”

“Who cares about a bloody badge, and a fat lot of good it’s doing if I can’t actually do anything worthwhile with it,” Roger snorted.

“That’s just the thing, maybe you can’t do everything that you’d like but you still have some control over the prefects. You can still influence patrol schedules, and keep an eye on things, and be a figurehead, and help people fight back. If you lose that, who do you think Umbridge will give it to? Bletchley? Montague? No thanks!”

Roger’s shoulders slumped a little, and Evan continued. “It’s the same sort of problem that Dumbledore has. Where can you achieve most of the least worst situation? I don’t know what the answer is, and I can’t tell you what to do, but I do know we could all be a lot worse off without you as Head Boy.”

“Ha! Maybe you’re right, I don’t know. Either way, I’m still definitely going to write to my parents. _Someone_ outside of Hogwarts needs to know what’s going on.”

“You said that Umbridge can read owls, though?” Michelle said.

“I’ll send it via the Hogsmeade Post Office. Not even she can interfere with the official post.”

Michelle and Chris exchanged worried looks. _If Umbridge can’t, the Ministry probably can. Three guesses who she’s working for._

Later, the Weasley boys displayed their usual, suicidally-Gryffindor approach to the situation. The dreary silence of their Defence class was shattered by a quiet slapping sound from the back of the room, culminating in a flash and minor explosion that made her jump, and Umbridge nearly fell off her chair. Seconds later, she was glowering at the Weasleys over their desks.

“_What_. Do you think. You are doing?!” she demanded in a voice full of menace.

“Playing Exploding Snap, Professor,” Fred announced cheerfully. “D’you want me to deal you in?”

She heard a muttered, ‘_Oh, Merlin’,_ and saw Roger drop his head into his hands. _Yes, exactly_.

“No, Mr. Weasley, I do not want you to ‘deal me in’,” Umbridge squeaked slowly. “I want you to focus on your assigned work and s_top this childish nonsense! _You have three seconds to put those cards away and return to your books, or you’ll have detention for a week!”

“Well, _technically_, Professor, _technically_,” said a new voice.

_Oh, Lee! Oh, Lee, no! Don’t do it!_

But he couldn’t hear her internal wail of despair, of course, and plunged heedlessly on, “Exploding Snap’s nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts. Can’t forget the decree, y’see? It’s not information relating to your subject.”

There was a long silence, that held until someone in the far corner broke and let out a snicker that quickly swept around the room until all of them were roaring with laughter. Despite her horror and dread, and maybe because of it, Michelle couldn’t stop herself from joining in. _Oh Lee, you guys are so _incredibly_ dead, now_.

Umbridge remained rooted to the spot, her face puce with anger, until the laughter died slowly away and an uncomfortable silence returned.

“Detention. Tonight,” Umbridge spat in a rising voice. “You shall rue the day, Mr. Jordan, that you thought this was some sort of game, that you could hope to try my patience and get away with it! And if I hear so much as a single peep out of any of the rest of you, you will be joining him, is that understood? I said, _is that understood?_”

There was a reluctant, mutinous drone of ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge,” from a few people that seemed to pass muster, and the usual, stupefied silence returned until the end of class.


	15. Happy Birthday

A very uneasy stalemate evolved over the next few weeks. Most of the normal interaction with the staff outside of class ceased. Few people were prepared to talk about anything much outside of the common rooms, and the previous interaction between the houses was severely curtailed. Even the teachers seemed to be nervous, and they were often seen in little groups of two or three in out-of-the-way places, talking in vehement whispers that ceased as soon as they realised someone was watching them. Trust, it seemed, was in very short supply all over the school.

With the second game of the season looming, Evan also had to negotiate Quidditch practice out in the foul January weather. Rather than settling into his role, Smith, if anything, had become even more erratic. Much to his teammates’ disgust, several of their regular, scheduled practice sessions were cancelled at short notice for no apparent reason, and then he issued a peremptory demand that they all attend a Saturday morning session instead. To say the rest of the team were unimpressed at this interference with their precious weekend time was an understatement, and it had been Evan that had talked them around in the end. Why he would bother when he was every bit as exasperated with the captain as they were was a mystery.

Much to her surprise, Michelle somehow found herself running impromptu tutoring sessions for the Hufflepuff O.W.L. Potions students after seeing Eloise Midgeon’s minor meltdown over an essay on the properties of salamander blood. An offer to help was gratefully seized on, and she quickly found herself surrounded by all of the fifth-years, desperate for whatever tips they could get. It was exciting and a little terrifying at the same time, but most of them just needed a bit of guidance and a lot of calming down. The knowledge was usually there, but they were getting themselves so flustered and stressed that they were messing things up, and privately she thought that a lot of it came down to a sort of ingrained panic that Professor Snape had managed to induce by his demanding and often-cruel approach to teaching.

There was still time for some of the usual parts of normal life, however, and Michelle and Becky spent some time colluding with the house-elves to make sure there was a small party for Evan’s birthday on the twenty-seventh, with a cake and a good supply of treats and nibbles in the common room. She had his present sorted out long before, a card and a selection of his favourites from Honeydukes, and if that was a little unoriginal - his friends would be getting him something similar, she knew - he disliked too much of a fuss and was always pleased with a small pile of sweets that he could share around. There was one present that was put aside, however - very, _very_ carefully. The Weasley twins had sent him a little box of carefully-wrapped and labelled sweets with a cryptic note in their card.

_ Umbridge-itis guaranteed or your money back! _

_ (OK, so you didn’t pay for it, but you know what we mean). _

_ Happy birthday! _

_ Hugs & kisses, _

_ Gred & Forge_

_ Purveyors of the finest mayhem since 1978_

Her own birthday followed a few weeks later, and although it wasn’t quite such a big deal as coming of age the previous year, turning eighteen was yet another exhilarating and scary reminder of time marching inexorably towards the end of her school days. As much as she tried to put it out of her mind and focus as hard as possible on keeping up with her schoolwork and preparing for N.E.W.T.s, it was always there, nagging away in the back of her mind. _I need to start making decisions. I need to start taking control of my life as much as I can. After N.E.W.T.s, it’s all down to me_.

_Yeah. No pressure, right?_

* * * * *

Evan had meant to sleep in on Saturday morning, but instead he found himself lying awake before dawn with Herbology running through his head from the previous night’s big homework assignment. Eventually, he gave up and pulled on a dressing gown, and stumbled out to the common room with a book where he could read without disturbing the others and hopefully take his mind off it. By the door, he doubled back and grabbed a couple of other things, too.

The common room was nearly empty, with only a couple of third-years sleepily sorting and trading Chocolate Frog cards, and Maxi sprawled out under a blanket on one of the couches, fast asleep from where she had come in late the previous night after her prefect duties and frantically tried to catch up on Transfiguration. The house-elves had made sure that the fire was burning cheerfully, though, and he found an armchair under one of the lamps with good reading light.

A grimy dawn light was creeping through the common room windows, and a few more students had emerged, when someone dropped into the armchair opposite him and muttered, “Morning.”

He looked up to see Michelle pulling a blanket around herself, still looking half-asleep, and he had to smile.

“Happy birthday! How do you feel?”

“Old,” she said, making a face. That made him laugh, and he reached down to grab her present and birthday card and held it out to her. “Evan! I told you that you didn’t have to get me anything!”

He lifted the present out of her reach and shook it gently, knowing that she’d recognise the sound. “Oh, so you don’t want it? Well, it seems a shame to waste it. I guess I’ll have to eat it all myself.”

“Oh, give it here, you!” she said, grinning. She opened the card first, then tore off the wrapping paper to find a box of Honeydukes’ handmade toffee and fudge, her favourites. Smiling happily, she came over and gave him a hug. “Thank you!”

“I thought you might take the chance to sleep in, today?” he said, as she settled back down with her blanket again.

“I was going to, but then I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep,” she sighed, ruffling her fingers through her hair.

“Me, too. I kept thinking about Herbology, of all things!”

“Ha! Anyway, I thought I’d come out and read for a bit, then see if I felt like going back to bed. The others are still asleep. What are you going to do today? Go and see the hippogriffs?”

“Yeah, I’ve been keeping a development log on Storm, and I’ve been trying to help Hagrid out with a few things, too.” He made a face, “And bloody Smith has decided to have Quidditch practice again today, so who knows how long that’ll take. With any luck, I can do some work with Rafa and the other reserves, too, but I don’t want to spend all day out there. I’ll move things around if you have anything planned, though. Is there anything you want to do today, birthday girl?”

Her smile faltered and she looked away, her eyes darting nervously until they ended up fixed on her feet. “Well… not today, but… um…”

Her fidgeting made him pause. _What’s going on?_ “Hey, it’s all right.”

She swallowed, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. “Well, the girls and I might do some stuff together today, but… there’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up. I know you’re busy today, so I’d… well, um… I’d kinda like to… spend the day. With you. In Hogsmeade.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it. “More than what we usually do?” he asked carefully.

She said nothing, still staring at the floor, but nodded.

The question, _You do realise that's on Valentine’s Day?_ bubbled up in his mind, but he managed not to say it. “Of course. Do you have anything planned, or anything you’d like to do?”

“Just… just whatever. Um. We can see. On the day, you know.”

“That’s fine. We’ve got all day, so just whatever you want to do,” he said gently.

That got a tentative, hopeful smile. “Thanks.” Before she could say more, Maxi and Tammy stepped into the common room with Leah and her roommates, and a second later, Michelle was on her feet. “Um, I really ought to go and get dressed. See you at breakfast.”

“Michelle-”

But she didn’t wait for an answer, and hurried towards her dorm, dodging the others with her head down.

Evan let his head fall back with a sigh, his eyes closing briefly in resignation. _What are you doing, Michelle? Well, apart from the obvious, but you seem so unsure about all this._ He roused himself to say good morning to the others, and dragged himself off to his own dorm._ Well, whatever it is, maybe it’s at least a start. I guess all I can do is play along and see how it pans out - and try not to scare you away._

* * * * *

_Argh! Oh my God, oh my God, oh Merlin, I sounded like an absolute imbecile, why am I like this, _why_, why can’t this be easy, I couldn’t possibly have made that any more awkward or made it sound any more ridiculous…_

She grabbed a towel and darted into the bathroom, where she could shut the door behind her and shut out a startled-looking Becky. Sitting on the loo, she put her head in her hands and tried to breathe deeply and get a hold of herself and _why the hell am I shaking, for Merlin’s sake?_

Finally, she felt able to blow out a slow, steadying breath and stand up, and reached in to turn the shower on. Stripping off, she couldn’t stop a wide, tremulous smile.

_Still. _

_He said yes, didn’t he?_

* * * * *

Michelle didn’t speak to him at breakfast, and although he saw her at lunch, she vanished off with the girls right after her birthday cake in the common room and he didn’t see her again until after Quidditch practice. She was still rather nervous around him, which got them some strange looks from their friends, and it took until the end of the day before she loosened up a little to more like her usual self.

“What’s up with Michelle today? She’s like a startled cat with you around,” Mike groused as they walked back to the common room with Ravi after dinner, before giving him an insinuating grin. “It’s Valentine’s Day coming up, that must be it. Surely she’s workin’ herself up to it at last. Ya’ll be off to Hogsmeade with all the other little lovebirds, an’ she’s just gettin’ up the nerve to ask ya!”

Evan sighed, and decided to just get it over with. “She asked me this morning before breakfast, actually.”

“What?” Ravi broke down into gales of laughter, and Mike wasn’t much better.

“Bloody took her long enough! An’ as for you, Great Merlin, man! Are ya going to give her the ring before ya date, or after?”

He rolled his eyes. “Guys… look, whatever it is, I really don’t think this was easy for her. Please don’t tease her about it. Please?”

Mike’s amusement faded when he picked up Evan’s tone and he stopped by the barrels and put his hands on his hips. “Ya know, ya take all the fun out of things, mate.”

“Probably. But just think how she’ll react if people start giving her a hard time. Yes, I know you lot think this is funny, ha ha, whatever, but it really does affect her.”

Ravi looked at him steadily, his face unusually serious. “And you two have been here before, haven’t you? The Yule Ball. Becky says she nearly chickened out on the day.”

Mike shook his head, and tapped the pattern on the barrels with his wand almost angrily. “You two. Merlin, yer both so _bloody_ stubborn about this, just talk t’each other, fer crying out loud…”

He wandered into the common room, still muttering in exasperation, leaving the other two looking at each other. After a moment, Ravi turned away, shaking his head, and followed him, leaving Evan to bring up the rear.

* * * * *

Miraculously, they got away without too much leg-pulling from their mates over the next few days. He often noticed Mike or especially Maxi hovering around, turning a stern eye on the likes of Tammy, and he felt half-grateful, half-annoyed that they were keeping the peace. If he was deprived of one outlet, Ravi made up for it by teasing his sister mercilessly, instead, until Jasmin turned around and cursed his eyebrows to grow uncontrollably.

“_If you won’t stop bloody waggling them at me, then let’s give you some to waggle properly!_”

Most of the joking around came to a halt on the day itself, not least because there was so much other entertainment on show. There was a positive blizzard of postal owls at breakfast that kicked off the excitement - especially if someone already in a relationship received a card from a third party - and afterwards was the spectacle of students heading for Hogsmeade more or less furtively, depending on their confidence and how long they’d been with their date for the day.

And then there was Mike and Maxi, who were lying together on a couch they’d dragged over to give full view of the entrance to the common room, feeding each other chocolates and taking the mickey out of everyone who passed.

“Good luck, Ernie!” Mike called cheerfully after one departee. “Remember, be careful of them brainy types.”

“Ach, he’s trying to unleash all that hidden passion,” Maxi added, chomping on a sugar heart. “Very repressed, Ravenclaws.”

Ernie’s rude gesture as the barrels closed behind him only made them laugh harder.

“Shouldn't’ I tell you two off, or something?” chuckled Evan. “I mean, you _are _prefects, and everything.”

He was leaning up against the arm of a nearby armchair, waiting for Michelle. As he’d expected, she was taking her time - _and a bit more while she talks herself into it, I suspect. She’ll get here when she’s ready_.

“You give us any hassle, an’ we’ll remember to ask why you’re hanging around out here, all dolled up,” Maxi said pointedly. “Fancy a Cockroach Cluster?”

“Strangely enough, no. And I’d hardly called this ‘dolled up’.” Evan had made sure that everything was clean, pressed, and presentable, and had taken his better cloak, too. The old one now smelled rather too much of hippogriffs for anything like social wear. He had added his blue scarf to help keep out the chilly, damp Hogwarts air, too.

“Ya made an effort, though, that’ll do fer now,” Maxi pointed out. “An’ I’d bet-”

“Ah, crikey, I think I’ve suddenly come over blind,” Mike said suddenly, cutting across her.

“What do ya know, I think me, too,” added Maxi.

Evan managed not to roll his eyes, and turned to see Michelle looking hopefully at him from the entrance to the girls’ dorms. She was smartly-dressed under her cloak, and he could see that she’d added a little makeup and some different earrings than her usual plain studs. He couldn’t stop a smile. “Hi. You’re looking nice,” he said, as she approached. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” she said, almost in a whisper, and they set off together side by side, like so many times before - except now, it was a little different.

“Have fun, guys.” Mike’s voice behind them was unexpectedly sincere, and he had to stop himself from glancing back.

They went through the usual rigmarole of getting their names checked off, and then they were free to head down to the village. It wasn’t cold as such, but the wind carried a damp chill in the air, and the looming clouds promised that rain was only a matter of time. Michelle was tense and rather monosyllabic as they set off, but by the time they left the Hogwarts gates, she had loosened up and was much more like her usual self. In fact, it was hard not to smile at seeing an optimistic bounce creep in to her step.

“So, where did you want to go first?”

She glanced warily up at the threatening sky, which was just beginning to leak its first drops. “It’s not very exciting, but I was thinking of getting some school stuff out of the way first. I’m running low on quills - could we stop in at Scrivenshaft’s quickly?”

“Of course.”

It started to spit heavily just as they reached the post office. He heard a squeak of dismay from Michelle, and she pulled up her hood to try to save her hair and makeup. They picked up the pace towards Scrivenshaft’s, until Michelle stopped at a small side-street. He turned to look enquiringly, and saw a steamy-windowed little tearoom with a sandwich board out the front that was rapidly losing its chalked Valentine’s Day message.

“How about a cup of tea while the rain passes over?”

_Madam Puddifoot’s? Really? Good grief, Michelle, the things I do for you! Still, at least it’s out of the weather._

The best that could be said about it was that it was dry and relatively warm. The room was jammed full of little tables occupied by couples, and the lacy tablecloths and frills and bows were supplemented by little cherubs that floated serenely around near the ceiling, dispensing little clouds of heart-shaped, pink confetti. The warmth and the damp rising from the patrons meant that there was a fug in the air made positively cloying by the incense and perfume and scented candles. It was frilly and cutesy and entirely not his thing, but Michelle was already shuffling towards a free table, and there was nothing to do but follow her. _If this is what she really wants… and it probably won’t kill me. Probably._

Roger Davies was at the table behind him, with Vicky What’s-Her-Name from Gryffindor clutching his hand tightly and looking very pleased with herself. The boys exchanged short, rather awkward nods as he and Michelle squeezed into their chairs before a short, plump woman bustled up, barely able to manoeuvre her bulk past the tightly-packed chairs.

“Hello, m’dears, what can I get you?”

Michelle looked at him enquiringly. “Tea?”

He summoned a smile, “Sure.”

“A pot of tea, please.”

Madam Puddifoot scribbled quickly on a small pad. “Anything to eat?” She ran through a list of biscuits and cakes, and Michelle opted for a brownie.

Somehow, the place made it difficult to make conversation. There was a low, rather stilted hum around them, but it was impossible to ignore all their neighbours at such tight confines, and it felt a bit like speaking to the whole room rather than just to Michelle. She was already looking like she was regretting coming there, and he felt a pang of sympathy for her. _I know she’s trying to do the right sort of things_. The little bell above the door tinkled musically, and he glanced up to see Cho Chang walk in, towing an awkward-looking Harry Potter. _Then again, when _isn’t_ Potter looking awkward? Still, at least Cho looks happy. What was it Michelle said about her putting a normal life back together?_

Their tea arrived in a pot decorated with kittens, which brought very unwelcome associations with Professor Umbridge in his mind, but Michelle perked up a bit with something to do. She quickly poured for both of them, then broke her brownie in half and offered a piece to him.

“Share?”

That made him smile, a little pulse of their normal, easy connection. “Thanks.”

He balanced it on the saucer of his teacup while he took a sip, and blinked rapidly, trying not to choke. It was like drinking liquid perfume!

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” he managed, with another camouflaging sip. _Good grief, that’s terrible!_ He noticed her wince when she took her first sip, too. Confetti continued to drift down from the ceiling, settling on his cloak and hair. Somehow, it didn’t quite touch the teacups or the plates, but it gently coated everything else.

It was hard to think of anything constructive to say, especially with Vicky cooing over Roger immediately behind him. Michelle barely said anything, either, leaving a massively awkward air over their little table. The brownie was dense and sticky, a useful diversion, but the tea… the tea! He did his best to drink it, or at least, to look like he was. After a few small sips, it became more like occasionally bathing his teeth.

Finally, Michelle put her own, barely-drunk, cup down on the table and looked at him levelly. “You’re not enjoying this, are you?”

_Ouch. I’ve buggered this up, even if it is awkward_. “Er-”

“Let’s just go, shall we?” she said in a low voice, before he could answer.

_I probably ought to argue more about this, but I really don’t think she’s enjoying herself, either. And can that silly twit stop slobbering over Roger! Even he looks embarrassed!_

It was a relief to drop some money on the table and step out into the cold, damp, _unperfumed_ air where he could breathe freely again. He took a few deep, cleansing breaths, and glanced over at her. There was a scowl on her face and her lips clamped firmly together, but she looked more sad and embarrassed than angry. Feeling that he ought to say something, he searched for something positive as they set off towards the centre of the village.

“Well, I suppose the brownie wasn’t bad.”

“It was OK. A bit too sweet for me. That tea, though!”

She made a face and shuddered, and he had to smile. “I didn’t realise until we got up to leave that you hadn’t actually drunk much of it either.”

She looked at him in exasperation, “I was only drinking it because you were! Or at least, you _looked_ like you were!”

He grinned, and tried to smother a chuckle. “I have to say, that was, by a very considerable distance, absolutely the worst cup of tea I’ve ever had. What even _was _that stuff?!

She smiled back at him, and he could see how some of the tension went out of her shoulders. “I don’t know, some sort of lavender blend, I think. I definitely put too much milk in it, and then I should have tried it before putting sugar in. I just thought it was going to be regular tea!”

“Yeah, there was way too much perfume and incense and stuff to actually smell anything in there. I think I’m going to need a shower when I get back to the castle, or I’ll stink of it for a week!”

She laughed, looking much more cheerful again, more like her usual self when they were together. “What, smelling all floral and sickly isn’t your thing?”

“I think the guys would make me sleep outside, at the moment.” He reached over to brush some pink confetti off her hair, “And as for the damn cherubs…!”

She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling. “If I look anything like you do, I must be covered in heart-shaped dandruff!”

“A little bit. How about we stop for a second and try to get the worst of it off?”

They stepped in between two shops and spent a few moments shaking out their cloaks and beating down their clothes. Evan bent forward and scrubbed his hands through his hair, but Michelle reached for her wand to charm hers clean, instead.

“That’s a bit better,” she said, picking a last piece off her collar. She looked up at him for a moment, mirth and happiness shining in her eyes, then pointed her wand at her free hand and whispered a charm. She lifted her hand and pressed the tip of her index finger gently against his cheek, “There! That’s perfect.”

He had to remind himself to breathe. _Merlin, I love it when she smiles like that_. “I’m afraid to look.”

Wordlessly, she reached into her bag and pulled out a compact. She handed it to him, and there on his cheek was a little pink heart, a piece of confetti that she’d stuck on him like a beauty spot. Laughing, he flipped the compact closed again and passed it back to her with a shrug.

“Well, who am I to argue with my fashion consultant? It’s what all the cool kids are wearing today.”

“Whether they want to or not, if they’ve been in Madam Puddifoot’s! Shall we just chalk that one up to experience?”

“It was that, for sure!”

“And let’s never speak of it again,” she added in a lower tone, some of the joy going out of her face.

They stepped back out onto the footpath and resumed walking. _Maybe it’s time for a change of subject_. “Did you have anything else you wanted to do?”

“That’s a brave question after my first attempt for the day!” He just laughed, and she added, “I really do need to go to Scrivenshaft’s, actually.”

“Fair enough. How about Honeydukes afterwards?”

That brought the cheerful smile back to her face. “Deal!”

They doubled back to Scrivenshaft’s, and then lingered over choosing a dozen fat goose quills as the rain outside became first heavy, and then torrential, enjoying the warmth of the shop and the friendly conversation of Mrs. Scrivenshaft herself at the counter. Feeling that they couldn’t decently stay any longer, they made a dash for Honeydukes, dodging puddles and trying to stay under awnings and porches wherever possible, but the water ran from their cloaks in rivulets.

Honeydukes was, as always on a Hogsmeade visit, absolutely rammed with students stocking up on sweets, but they avoided the more exotic items and headed for ‘Sticky Corner’, the fudge and toffee section. The shelves were stacked high with boxes of every possible flavour and size, and there was a platter of toffees sitting on a small table in front of the shelves with a sign, ‘Try one! (Only one, please)’.

Michelle let out a small groan as her eyes wandered the shelves lustily. “You’re bad, you are.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I mean, leading me into temptation, and everything.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, ‘cause your toffee fixation is all my fault.”

“I’m glad you admit it,” she sniffed loftily, before adding in a more normal voice, “Let’s be honest, it’s probably a good thing I don’t come in here very often.”

“You’re not the only one! Hey, try a sample.”

He picked up a little square off the platter and fed it to her, and her eyes closed briefly in pleasure.

“Oh, my goodness! What was that?”

“Butterbeer almond fudge, apparently.”

“Where are the boxes?!”

He tried not to laugh at her eager expression. “I take it that’s a winner, then?”

“You try one and tell me I’m wrong.”

He reached out for a second sample, only to get a small zap on his fingers. ‘Only one, please’ glowed briefly in red on the sign.

Michelle laughed, and reached for the samples herself. “Here.”

He was suddenly very, _very_ aware of her as she fed it to him, the curve of her neck and the way her head tilted, cheeks flushed slightly and her face glowing with happiness. He tried not to shiver, and dragged his eyes away from hers before he drowned in them.

“So?”

He’d almost forgotten about the toffee. “Eh, not bad, I suppose.”

“You suppose?!” she snorted in mock outrage.

He rolled his eyes and reached for another box of fudge. “Oh, all right, then. Of course, now I hold ultimate bribe power over you.”

She giggled happily and dragged him over to the till. “Come on, before I completely lose my head and buy the whole shop.”

He was having trouble wiping the grin off his face, and while they were waiting to be served she asked playfully, “What are you smiling at?”

“Ever heard the expression about a kid in a sweet shop? That’s you, that is!”

She laughed, and hooked her arm through his. “Best you drag me away, then, isn’t it? Where to next?”

He looked up at the clock above the counter. “It’s about lunch time, but the Three Broomsticks will be heaving. Do you want to wait for a bit, or go somewhere else? Actually, for that matter, are you even hungry yet?”

“Um… kind of. I know the weather’s a bit manky, but how about we have a turn down to the end of the village and back? It’s something to do, and it ought to kill a bit of time.”

“Sure.”

After they paid, they made their way down the main street in darts and dashes, dodging from shop to shop and browsing wherever they could keep out of the rain. The wind had picked up a little, driving the cold and damp at their exposed faces, but they cast warming charms on each other, and renewed the _Impervius_ charms on their cloaks to keep out the worst of the weather. On the way back, they ducked into the Odd Shop to explore its eccentric and exotic displays, but mostly as an excuse to warm up.

The crowd in the Three Broomsticks was starting to thin out, and they found a small table in a corner at the back. It was rather a long way from the large, open fire, but just being somewhere snug out of the weather was a massive improvement, and the convivial fug of the fire and dozens of patrons was very pleasant after the cold outside. They had a look through the menu together, and then Evan made his way up to the bar. He had a few minutes to wait as the people in front of him were served, but he ended up being served by Madam Rosmerta herself.

“Yes, darlin’?” she said, quill poised over an order pad, before doing a small double-take. “Er…”

He looked at her in confusion for a second, and she gestured towards her cheek. The penny dropped. “Oh, that. Long story.”

She chuckled, and shook her head. “What can I get you?”

He placed their order and paid, then headed back to their table. Michelle was looking rather warmer, and the pink had come back into her cheeks.

“Hey, check it out. Far corner, on the left. See? That’s Ravi.”

He turned in his seat and looked around until he found their friend sitting at a small table, much like they were, and talking animatedly with a dark-haired girl who had her back to them. “And… Vinu, isn’t it? Don’t tell me she finally agreed?”

She grinned happily, “Actually, I heard yesterday that it was the other way around. _She_ asked _him_! Either way, I hope it works out for them.”

“Me, too. Ravi’s a good guy. Speaking of that sort of thing - Roger and Vicky, eh? Good grief!”

“They seem to be getting on like a house on fire,” she agreed. “Unlike Cho and her date!”

“Yeah, Potter looked like he was regretting it.” He shook his head. “Those two. That just seems so weird.”

“Yeah. Who knows, maybe they’re both just looking for someone that understands what they’ve been through. I mean, they’re only sixteen-seventeen, they’re probably as confused as hell.”

“Gosh. Spoken from the dizzy heights of eighteen.”

“You know what I mean!” She shrugged, “From what Alicia and Megs say, she’s still an overemotional mess, and he’s still the same repressed, desperately-awkward boy that doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. But anyway, onto happier topics, did you see Chris and Trish earlier?”

“No?”

“Out by Gladrags. Chris is still really shy with her, it’s so sweet!”

“He and Trish really seem to be making a go of it, don’t they?”

“Maxi was telling me that she walked in on them kissing not far from Gryffindor Tower just before curfew the other night. She was going to start taking the mickey, but they both look so embarrassed, she hadn’t the heart, and just walked out again without saying a word.” Evan started to laugh, and she added, “She was complaining that neither of them will even look at her, at the moment!”

Two coffees and a pair of hot roast beef sandwiches where delivered for them by a sweating waiter. Evan reached for his sandwich, but Michelle wrapped her hands around her cup and took a sip, and let out a long sigh.

“Oh, that is _so_ much better than that muck we had earlier!”

“At The-Place-That-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

That made her laugh loudly, “That is just perfect!”

They chatted happily while they ate, making sure to stay away from depressing topics likes school and N.E.W.T.s and escaped Death Eaters. There was plenty of time for that stuff later, and he was determined to make the rest of her day one that she would enjoy without reservations. It seemed to be working; Michelle was back to her usual self after the day’s iffy start, and he felt the familiar flutter in his stomach at seeing her bright and cheerful and quick to laugh, the girl that not everyone got to see. _I really wish they did_.

Ravi spotted them as he and Vinu got up to leave, and after a glance outside at the rain still bucketing down, they came to join Evan and Michelle. They were rather reluctant to stay at first until it was clear that they were welcome and not intruding, and the four of them quickly settled in together and spent a very convivial afternoon in the dry and warm.

With the light fading and the rain tapering off, they reluctantly dragged themselves away for the walk back to the castle. By unspoken agreement, they split up into couples and drifted a small distance apart to have a semblance of privacy. He caught Michelle giving him thoughtful, rather anxious looks a few times, but she just smiled when she notice him watching, like everything was normal. _Maybe it is. What are you thinking, Michelle?_

She stopped at the foot of the steps to the Entrance Hall, with the castle looming invitingly above them in the darkness and promising warmth and shelter. She watched him in silence for a long moment, her bottom lip caught under her teeth.

“Evan?” she said softly. “Thanks. I had a really good time, today.”

And then abruptly, she turned and almost jogged up the steps, leaving the breath he’d taken to reply to leak slowly out, unspent. _Well. Now what?_

* * * * *

_Now what?_

The question loomed large in her mind, making it hard to think of anything else, and rather than face the common room and _him _and no doubt the eager questions from the girls, she plunged deep into the castle, heading for the upper floors and away from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers where she could hope to be as far away from the others as possible and just _think _for a while. The Astronomy Tower was off-limits, too, for obvious reasons, although that didn’t stop her from inadvertently walking in on Geoff Hooper of Gryffindor with someone in Ravenclaw robes in what she had assumed was an empty sixth-floor classroom. Finally, she found a deserted alcove on the fifth floor where she could be alone with her thoughts.

_Now what?_

The romantic part of the day, the part that she’d had the highest hopes for, the whole _point _of it, had been a disaster. He’d hated it, and although he tried to put a brave face on it and act like a gentleman for her sake, she’d been able to tell right away that it was a massive mistake. And so she’d abandoned Madam Puddifoot’s and The Great Romance Experiment, and suddenly they were back to their usual, effortless closeness that warmed her heart and made her pulse race and got her hopes up… for nothing? But they were not just friends. She’d known that for a long time. The way he was with her was unlike how he was with anyone else. _So if we’re not just friends and romance is out of the question or doesn’t work… then what? Have I just been deluding myself all along? Where do we go from here?_

_Now what?_

_Then again, did I really enjoy that, either? All I could think of was how awkward I felt, and the tea was bloody undrinkable, and it was so cramped, and I hated the decor and the stupid cherubs and… and it all felt sort of _fake_, didn’t it? In a way that being with him later just wasn’t. _She found herself pacing the little alcove in agitation. _Then, the joy was real, the laughter was real. It was so comfortable. The feelings were real - for me, anyway. Does this mean that we just don’t work with the romance-y side of things? Argh! This is what I wanted to avoid! This is what I’d hoped today would clear up, but I’m right where I started. If anything, it’s worse. Damn it, why couldn’t he have just kissed me or something? He knows me by now, he must know how I feel! Even if he just pushed me away, at least I’d know where we stand! _She shook her head in frustration. _He would never force himself on me, though, I know that. Why am I so desperate for him to take charge?_

_Because_, an awkward, unwelcome part of her mind told her, _That way, you could avoid having to make decisions. You could just go along with him because it’s easy, and it’s what you want… isn’t it? Well, isn’t it? I thought it was, but after today, I really don’t know any more. _Her thoughts chased their tails fruitlessly around in her head, on and on, much like her circuits of the alcove. _If that’s not a perfect symbol of the futility of all this, I don’t know what is._ The depressing thought made her heart sink. Finally, she managed to stop and look at her watch. _It’s getting late, I should go down. Everyone will be wondering where I’ve gone. And oh, Merlin, I’m going to have to face all the looks and the questions - and him. _She sighed and dragged her fingers through her hair. _All this panic and stress and I’ve achieved nothing._

_Now what?_

* * * * *

On the walk back to the common room, she decided to act like nothing had happened. _I had a day out with Evan, and I had a good time, the end. And that is the truth, after all._

The common room was buzzing, so she managed to slip through to her dorm to drop things off and change her jumper without being seen, but as she’d expected, it was only a minute before her roommates were filing into the room to corner her.

“So, how did it go?” Becky prompted her expectantly.

“Fine,” she said, pulling a clean jumper over her head.

The girls exchanged a look. “Well, there’s a ringing endorsement. Did you two… you know?” asked Becky.

“Did we what?” _As if I don’t know, but still_.

“Do anything!” Becky burst out impatiently, “You know, hold hands? Kiss? Rip each other’s clothes off and shag in the middle of the street?”

She tried to keep her voice light, almost off-hand. “No.”

Maxi sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Oh, fer… so you dragged him out to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day, jus’ the two o’ yers, and jus’ talked about the bloody weather?”

Tammy gaped at her, then turned and walked off, shaking her head. “By Merlin, I give up. I _really_ don’t get you two.”

Feeling that she’d done her duty in terms of tolerating their inquisitiveness, she left Becky and Maxi behind and went back into the common room. Mike was sprawled in an armchair in the corner, flicking through a Quidditch magazine, but there was no sign of Evan or the other boys. She went over to join him, and said ‘Hi’.

“Where’s the others?”

“About, I suppose. Maybe gettin’ ready ter go up fer dinner, although I think Tammy’s just gone.” He tossed the magazine down on a pile in the window sill, and stretched. “Did ya have a good time in Hogsmeade?”

_I wonder what Evan told him? Anything? _“Yes, thanks. I saw Chris and Trish, and Ravi and Vinu, too, but now that I think about it, I don’t remember seeing you and Maxi there.”

He shuddered, “Merlin, there’s a reason for that!”

“But you two are… you know?” she pointed out uncertainly.

He snorted, “Sane? Aye, I know! Look, all that manufactured crap isn’t really our thing. Fer us, it’s more about spending time together.”

“So… what did you do? Sorry, that’s really nosy of me, but I-”

But he just grinned, and answered her anyway. “We spent the day together doin’ nothin’ very much at all, which was exactly what we both wanted. No homework, no studyin’, no bloody prefect nonsense, either. Just us.”

She summoned a smile in reply. “That doesn’t sound overly romantic.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I told her I love her and bought her a shedload of chocolate, so she was happy. Maxi can be a very simple girl, sometimes.”

“Just as well for you, there, me darlin’!”

Maxi wound her arms around her boyfriend’s neck from behind and kissed him lingeringly, and Michelle felt a pang of wistfulness and pride at seeing Mike’s hand gently stroke her cheek. _They really are so perfect with each other_.

“I’m not disputin’ that. So - ready fer dinner?”

“Starvin’! Coming, Michelle?”

She followed a few paces behind them, letting them walk hand-in-hand to the Great Hall. She felt a swoop of uncertainty when she saw Tammy already at the table with Evan, but after a brief hesitation, she took the seat next to him like normal. _It’s what everyone expects, and there’s no reason not to, right? _Tammy looked bewildered, but Evan greeted her like any other night, and it wasn’t long before the two of them were chatting happily over their dinner again. In a way, it was an incredible relief. _No matter how badly the day turned out, everything’s still all right. _We’re _still all right, and that’s the most important thing._

Despite the day’s distractions, there was the ever-present spectre of homework, and once back in the common room they made at least an effort at keeping up. Mike and Maxi disappeared off on their prefect’s rounds - or so they claimed. Everyone else was pretty sure that it was shorthand for a prolonged and thorough examination of a broom cupboard, although judging by the number of other students missing, they might struggle to find one unoccupied.

Later, she sat half-propped up in bed with the covers pulled up under her chin, and thought back through the day. In particular, she couldn’t help but think of Mike’s casual dismissal of it as unimportant. _‘It’s more about spending time together.’ And we sort of did that, didn’t we? But how does that fit in? Where does it start?_

She was still turning it over in her mind when she fell asleep.


	16. Hufflepuff v Gryffindor

With Valentine’s Day safely out of the way, the students’ attention was captured by the resumption of the Quidditch season just over a week later, when Hufflepuff would be taking on Gryffindor in an attempt to make up for their less-than-stellar start. Smith had them training nearly every day, and despite the long faces of their opposition, the team were taking nothing for granted and could not have been more eager to get into it. Perhaps the only threat on the horizon was when Ravi’s sister, Jasmin, developed a nasty-looking cold. Ravi had ended up with leeks sprouting from his ears when he jokingly warned her to stay away from Owen Summerby, their Seeker, until she was fully cured.

So perhaps it was inevitable that Owen shuffled into the Great Hall on the morning of the game with his face flushed and looking swollen around the eyes, before reluctantly joining his teammates for breakfast.

“That better not be what I think it is,” Tammy said ominously, as Owen took a free seat at the end of the table.

In reply, Owen sneezed, wiping his nose with an already-damp looking handkerchief.

Smith had his head in his hands. “Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!”

“Sorry guys, I just sort of woke up with it this morning,” he croaked.

“Merlin!” Maxi said in disgust, throwing down her toast, while Mike swore.

“Ravi, that’s it. Your sister is officially banned from snogging anyone during Quidditch season,” he said, thrusting an accusing finger at his friend.

Ravi looked up from his cornflakes and shrugged, “Fine by me, mate. I’ll let you tell her, though, I fancy my nostril hairs where they are, thanks.”

Jasmin made a rude gesture at him from a few seats along the table.

Evan sighed. “Well, there’s nothing for it now. Have you seen Madam Pomfrey yet, Owen?”

“Er, not yet. I’ve only just got up.”

“Well, get yerself up there now, man! Bloody hell, don’t come down here and share it around with the rest of us!”

“Easy, Mike, that’s enough! He’s right, though, go and get something for it now. The sooner you get a Pepper-Up Potion in you, the better chance we’ve got later. Are you all right to go on your own?”

“Wow, Owen, the perils of being irresistible, eh?” said Ravi, as Owen clambered to his feet. “Jas, you might as well go with him. And I told you not to snog him,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“I didn’t!” Jasmin snapped, with a fearsome glare.

“Well, it looks like someone did.”

“Then ask _him_ who he was snogging, because it wasn’t me!”

Owen turned to look at her, and his lip curled in disbelief. “Seriously, Jas?” With a disgusted huff, he turned and stomped out, and Jasmin’s face cycled through confusion to horror.

“That’s not what I- Owen, wait!”

Jasmin scrambled to her feet and hurried after him, while Becky smacked Ravi on the arm. “Wow. Nice going, mate. How to screw up your sister’s love life in one easy lesson.”

Ravi was already looking down at the table, and swore quietly. “Well, that all went a bit wrong.”

“Yeah, no kidding. And not only that, now you’ve got our Seeker feeling miserable _and_ heartbroken, all at the same time, and right before a game. Well done, that takes real talent!”

“Oh, thanks for rubbing it in, Becky, how about you _shut up_-” Ravi snapped, only for Becky to fire back at him.

“Maybe you should have thought of that-”

“All right, belt up, the pair of you!” Evan growled over their rising voices. “Becky, we get the picture. Ravi, go and find those two and make sure they sort it out. I don’t care what you do, but make sure they talk to each other.”

Tammy muttered something under her breath that Michelle didn’t catch, and Becky scowled after Ravi as he slipped away in the direction of the hospital wing.

“I don’t believe this. I mean, right before a game. I don’t think we could possibly have a worse start,” Smith was chuntering away, largely to himself, in between savage bites of his toast and marmalade.

Not quite sure what to do with such an awkward air hanging over them, after a moment’s hesitation, Michelle reached over and squeezed Evan’s forearm reassuringly. That got her a kind smile and a gentle bump of the shoulder that sent her heart into overdrive. _He does know what he does to me when he does that, doesn’t he? He must do_. She found it hard to concentrate on her breakfast after that, and could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks, too.

A few uncomfortable minutes later, Smith swallowed the last of his coffee and climbed to his feet. “Right. Those of you that haven’t come down with Black Death, Gingivitis, Spattergroit or Dragon Pox, this morning, be in the Entrance Hall at ten. We go down as a team, understand?” With that, he stalked off, leaving the others to exchange long-suffering looks.

Michelle heard a small sigh from Evan, and he reached for a teapot, looking up at her expectantly. She shook her head, and he poured himself another cup.

“Well, that’s the day off to a grand start.”

“They will sort it out, won’t they?” she asked him, in a low voice.

“Oh, I should think so. It’s just the wrong words at the wrong time. They’ll be all right.”

“I hope so. Everyone’s a bit tetchy this morning.”

“Pre-Quidditch Tension. You’d think we’d be over that sort of thing, by now.”

“Quidditch and school and everything else, probably. Do you have much to do later?”

“I’ve got some Herbology to finish. Other than that, Hagrid’s had a read through of a first draft of my project report for Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Oh yes? What did he think? Good?”

“I guess so. Just in case I didn’t have enough to do, he’s asked me to turn it into a magazine article as well. He thinks _Magizoology Today _might be interested in something like that.”

“Wow! Really? That’d-”

“Shh!” He cut her off, although he looked more amused at her excitement than anything. “It’s just a suggestion at this point.”

“Sorry! But still, that’s great news, isn’t it? I mean, to get something published when you’re still at school?”

“Well, perhaps. I have to actually produce something they’re happy with first, and it’s yet another thing to try to jam into the next few months. But yes, it would be a bit of a coup, and I think it’d pretty much guarantee an Outstanding, which is the main goal, I suppose.”

She opened her mouth to reply, then shut it and let her breath out without saying anything.

He gave her a wry smile, “You might as well just say it.”

“Sorry. It’s just… I don’t want you to overload yourself too much - but you already know that, so it’s a bit stupid to say it.”

“Well, not really.” He smiled at her, “I guess I’ll have to rely on you to keep me on the straight and narrow.”

She found herself smiling back at him, rather breathlessly. “Have you seen my fees, though?”

He chuckled, “I’m not sure I can afford that much toffee, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“If you’ve finished, I think my first task is to tell you to go and get ready for Quidditch before Smith bursts a blood vessel.”

He grinned, and pushed back his chair. “See? What would I do without you?”

* * * * *

Down in the changing rooms, Evan tried to put everything else out of his mind and went through his usual routine, dressing and donning his protective armour. He was glad of the bulk and thick layers, because although the rain held off, it was still damp and chilly outside.

Smith seemed to have decided that the best way to prepare everyone for the match was by boring them into submission with a long-winded recapitulation of all the tactics they had devised and flown over the last few weeks in excruciating detail. He could see the tics in Smith’s hands and cheek that betrayed how nervous he was, but that was no excuse for a speech that had sucked all the life out of the room.

At long last, he wound it up. “That’s all from me. We know what we have to do. Does anyone else have anything to add?”

Evan looked around his friends, impatient and inattentive and frustrated, and levered himself to his feet

“All right, listen up. Zach’s gone through the detail. We all know what we have to do, we’ve flown it often enough in the last few weeks, and we’ve been looking damn good. You all saw Gryffindor last time. They had it tough with losing Wood this season, and now, thanks to Umbridge, they’ve been completely gutted. Two new Beaters, a new Seeker, and a Keeper that couldn’t catch a cold. Never mind the chat that’s been going around - and I know you’ve all heard it - they’ve only had a few weeks to get it together. The newbies are going to be nervous as hell and low on confidence, so it’s important that we go out there and hit them _hard_, right from the first whistle. Don’t let them settle! If we stand off and let them play their way into the game, well, who knows, maybe they’ll put up a fight, but let’s get out there and fly fast and aggressive! Get right up in their faces every time they so much as look at a ball.”

Madam Hooch’s whistle shrilled loudly in the tunnel. Two minutes.

“Now, _come on_! Let’s go and squash these pussycats!”

The team surged to their feet eagerly, snatching up their brooms and heading for the tunnel with smiles on their faces. Smith looked rather offended at being upstaged, and eventually settled for a scowl at Evan before following the others. With a shrug, he brought up the rear.

They exchanged the usual hugs and handshakes while Lee Jordan’s amplified voice boomed around the stadium. If anything Lee sounded a bit anxious as he introduced his house-mates, too.

“…_and here come the Badgers! Smith, the captain, Applebee and Cadwallader, O’Flaherty and McManus are the Beaters, Fielding at the back, and it’ll be Owen Summerby up against newcomer Ginny Weasley._”

He let his pre-match stretch-and-loosen-up circuit take him past the halfway spot and into Gryffindor territory, and couldn’t stop a fierce grin from breaking out. Sloper and Kirke were done already, rigid and terrified, while the gangly, red-haired figure at the back looked like he was about to puke. Katie Bell had a scowl on her face, and poor Angelina Johnson looked ready to break down and start hexing people. The only one who looked close to normal was Alicia Spinnet, calm and inscrutable as ever, but he’d never really got much of a read on the quiet, studious Gryffindor. Far above soared the red pony-tailed figure of yet another Weasley, although this one didn’t seem to be suffering the nerves of her brother.

“Captains, please!”

Smith flew to the centre spot as Evan headed for his own set of hoops. The others were already circling, and he could see from the looks on their faces that they had seen exactly what he had seen, and were champing at the bit to tear into the Lions.

“_It’s Quaffle up, and game on_!

The crowd cheered loudly, and again when Gwion charged into the fray and snatched first possession of the Quaffle for the Hufflepuffs, stealing it away from Katie Bell’s fingertips. When the initial roar of enthusiasm from the crowd died away, Evan could hear the Slytherins resuming their hateful abuse of the Gryffindor Keeper.

“_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

_He cannot block a single ring,”_

It started at the front of the Slytherin stand and quickly swelled in volume. _Oh, for crying out loud, not again!_ Evan wanted to win, sure enough, but he had nothing against the kid, and this just didn’t seem fair. _Still, there’s nothing I can do about it just now_.

Whether it was the Slytherin’s taunts or his own nerves getting the better of him once more, the Gryffindor Keeper did nothing to improve on his previous game. In fact, the Lions might have been better off fielding their house ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, instead. Zach and Gwion quickly racked up a pair of goals each, and although Gryffindor’s experienced Chasers flew well and with increasing desperation, they were completely undermined by their defence. Evan had seldom seen such an ineffective pair of Beaters, cowed into total submission by Mike and especially Maxi, who had clearly taken his pre-match words about aggression to heart. They were so terrified of their opposite numbers that Kirke actually fell off his broom when trying to dodge a Bludger hit by Mike, only to be caught by surprise by Smith streaking past him to collect a pass from Gwion.

“_Weasley is our King!_

“_Weasley is our King!_”

Tammy scored to make it 50-0, before a neat combination from Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell broke the Gryffindor’s duck. Angelina Johnson, beyond furious by that stage, intercepted a careless pass and scored as well, then promptly called for a time-out. Barely a few minutes had elapsed, but Evan flew forward into the huddle mentally cursing at himself not to slip into complacency.

“You’re all doing damn well,” Smith said, with a smug look on his face as their breath fogged and steamed in the frigid air. “It’s practically six on three down here. Any sign of the Snitch, Owen?”

“Thought I saw it just before the time-out, but it was a Ravenclaw’s watch,” Owen said, mopping at his nose with his sleeve.

“Well, keep it up, all of you. Their defence just can’t live with us.”

“_That’s why Slytherins all sing:_

_Weasley is our King!_”

When they got back underway, it was apparent that Angelina Johnson had gone for a change of tactics. Rather than work with their hopeless Beaters, the Gryffindor Chasers instead went for hell-for-leather, kamikaze attacks. Evan had to save smartly from Katie Bell, but they had no hope of stopping Tammy from adding another goal to make it 60-20. Next time around, Katie did score, but there was simply no way for the Chasers to be in two places at once and keep from being broken up by the Bludgers fired relentlessly at them by Maxi and Mike. The all-out focus on attack kept Evan busy and meant that the Gryffindors could still score goals, but they were caving in at the back, and things got worse with the score at 200-80.

“_Cadwallader has the Quaffle, and Gryffindor are on the defensive again, about halfway between the scoring zone and the centre spot. Cadwallader pauses, and it’s a Bludger through Johnson’s tail feathers as she tries to close him down. Cadwallader, fakes to Smith, and oh, _look out, Jack_! Ooooh, that’s got to hurt! I think that last Bludger caught Sloper by surprise, it’s a big swing and a miss from him, and I think he’s hit his captain. Yes, there’s blood on Angelina’s face, and if he’s messed up her stunning good looks, I’m going to have to kill him later-”_

“_Don’t threaten the boy, Jordan, or it’ll be detention!”_

“_-That’s assuming Angie doesn’t get there first, but for now, it’s an injury time-out._”

The Hufflepuffs didn’t even bother with a huddle this time. Instead they sat on their brooms and waited for the action to recommence, watching the Gryffindors exchange angry words and gestures. Evan felt rather sorry for them, especially the Chasers who he knew well and liked. No one liked to be embarrassed, especially in front of a crowd, but their efforts were descending into farce. All the while, the Slytherin’s gleeful abuse continued.

Madam Pomfrey had Angelina patched up in relatively short order, but it was clear that the incident had left her a little shy of getting properly stuck in, and Smith and Tammy took full advantage. Another goal, and another. Evan had to make a double-save after a good piece of work from Alicia Spinnet, although the second save resulted in a minor collision that left him with a gash along his cheek, but then the play was straight back up the other end again, and the Quaffle was soaring past Weasley’s ineffective flailing. Lee Jordan’s commentary had descended from pained, to desperate, to outright anguish.

“_It’s 240-80, and the Hufflepuffs are really taking advantage now. Their Beaters are utterly- _wait, both Seekers are off_! Summerby went first, and Weasley’s right on his tail, Ginny that is. They’re banking hard towards the Ravenclaw stand, Weasley’s got the speed advantage with that broom, go on, Ginny! And, and… _yes_! She’s done it! Ginny Weasley with the catch, right out of Summerby’s hand! That ends the game and brings the Gryffindors back to within ten points of a very dominant Hufflepuff side, but it’s not enough to prevent a Hufflepuff victory! 240-230 is your final score here at Hogwarts, and thank Merlin that’s over. The next game is the Ravens back in action against the green-and-silver loudmouths in the east stand. Thank you all for coming, except the Slytherins, who can-”_

Lee’s voice was cut off in a loud howl of feedback, but that didn’t silence the cheers of the Hufflepuff crowd. Smith was flying lazy laps in front of them with the Quaffle tucked under his arm and an insufferably smug look on his face, basking in the ovation. The others settled for saluting their house-mates and then flying for the tunnel, and Evan followed suit, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot to celebrate in a massacre, somehow.

The Gryffindors dragged themselves off the pitch, looking utterly dejected. Kirke managed a wordless handshake for his opponents, and a slump-shouldered Sloper muttered, “Played, Fielding,” as he shook his hand.

There wasn’t much Evan could say to that, other than, “Tough day out there. Chin up, Jack.”

He got a flicker of a ghastly grin, and the boy slunk off towards the Gryffindor changing room. Evan didn't blame him.

Katie Bell was a little more phlegmatic, and Alicia lingered to talk to him, Tammy, Mike and Maxi, but Angelina Johnson shook their hands and was back in her changing room as quickly as possible, looking angry enough to breathe fire. The two Weasleys were the last in. Ron hurried wordlessly past them all, head bowed and shoulders slumped. His sister followed much more slowly, although with disappointment still plain on her face.

“Well played, Ginny,” Evan said, shaking her hand. “A great catch, too.”

She grimaced. “Thanks. I suppose we deserved some luck today.”

“Hey, don’t call it luck, you flew really well. Just… look after your brother, yeah? He’s had a pretty rough day.”

“Yeah, you don’t say? Thanks, Fielding.” Her voice had a bit of sass in it, but he didn’t take offence. _Yes, it’s stating the bleedin’ obvious about Ron, but it still needs to be said_.

He stepped into the Hufflepuff changing room - and quickly carried on to the boys’ changing room, because Mike and Maxi were… somewhat engaged… in celebrating their victory.

Mopping at the gash on his cheek with a tissue, he shook out his broom and stood it up to dry, then pulled off his robes. Owen Summerby was sitting on a bench next to him in his underclothes, having already stripped off his robes and protective guards. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and he looked tired and fed up.

“All right, Owen? You were unlucky there, at the end.”

He sighed, then sneezed loudly. “Bloody thing. Bloody cold. I had it, too,” he muttered angrily. “I had the damn thing, and then I sneezed, and-” he broke off and shrugged.

Gwion looked over his shoulder from where he stood in front of his locker, and said, “Ah, it’s not your fault, Owen. The bloody Snitch just flat-out hates us this season. Anyway, we won, didn’t we?”

“Just. Oh, bloody hell. All that, and it’s none out of two, this season.” Owen shook his head in disgust and began to strip for the shower, so Evan left him to it.

About the only one who seemed completely happy was Smith, who burst in a moment later, still clutching the Quaffle and with an enormous grin on his face.

“Just over twenty minutes, too! A shame about the Snitch, really, that would have put us in a great position for the Cup, of course…”

Evan quickly tuned out the captain’s excited gloating and concentrated on getting ready for a shower. _Oh well, at least someone’s pleased about it._

* * * * *

With the game over so quickly, it was hard to believe they were back in the castle already and it wasn’t even lunchtime. The Hufflepuff common room was bouncing, and when the team filed in they were greeted with cheers and even a few paper streamers, while someone had their wireless cranking. Maxi and Mike quickly got into the swing of things and were leading the celebrations, Tammy and Gwion were happily recounting their best goals to an appreciative audience, and Smith was strutting around, insufferably smug. Evan was involved more on the periphery, talking to Rafa and Justin and Ernie. Michelle caught him looking thoughtful and distracted several times, but he still seemed to be enjoying their victory.

The only real cloud on the horizon was Owen and Jasmin. Owen was slumped in an armchair by himself, looking tired, congested, and hacked off, and Jas kept her distance from him, for all that she looked guilty and upset herself. It was hard not to feel a strong pang of sympathy for her. _She said the wrong thing and she didn’t actually mean it like that and she knows it, but he’s got to get a grip and realise that, too, and that it’s not the end of the world unless they make it that. But there’s nothing I can do to fix things for them, and I wouldn’t even know where to start, and the last thing they’ll want is someone butting in on them. _

She was content to stay in the corner by the corridor to the dorms, where it was relatively calm and out-of-the-way, and just watch. It was still fun to see everyone else having fun, and she was proud to see her friends being congratulated. Later, when the party made its way up to the Great Hall for lunch, she found herself sitting next to Evan as usual. He was quiet again, but only paying half-hearted attention to his chicken curry. Eventually she asked him in a low voice, “Hey. Are you all right? You don’t really look like your heart’s in it, today.”

He perked up and forced a smile when he looked at her. “Well, maybe not.” He chewed his lip briefly. “I guess I feel a bit bad for Fred and George’s brother. They tell me Ron’s actually quite good when there’s no one around, but he just completely goes to pieces when the pressure’s on. It’s bad enough being out there when things are going badly, because there’s nowhere to hide, but the Slytherins are just vile about it.”

“Yeah. What can you do, though? You can’t exactly stop them singing things.”

“That’s the thing. If Gryffindor was actually playing Slytherin it wouldn’t be quite so bad, but they’re deliberately going after him outside of that, and it just doesn’t seem right. I found myself wondering what Cedric would do about it. He’d have hated this sort of thing, too.”

_He would, too. He was always one that said the game ought to be played the right way, or it’s not worth playing. But he’s not here, and we are. So what do we do? Try to learn from his example, from what he taught us, I guess. That’s keeping his memory alive, too, isn’t it?_ “Well, what do you think we should do about it?”

He made a face. “There’s not much I can do, which is what’s been getting at me. I talked to Ginny about it briefly after the game, and I don’t think Fred and George can even bring themselves to tease him anymore. They’ll look out for him, I suppose, but I still hate it.”

“You could try talking to him about it.”

He smiled faintly, “Ron’s very proud, and almost as stubborn as a Hufflepuff. I’m pretty sure he’d tell me to go stick my head in a cesspit.” He sighed, “Maybe I’ll see if I can talk to Fred and George about him.”

“Then at least you’re trying. It’s a bit like the situation with Cho. You can’t always fix people’s problems, but you can be there when they need help.”

“I know someone else who’s good like that,” he said softly, watching her with his head tilted a little to one side. “Thanks for listening, Michelle.”

It was impossible to restrain a shiver at his voice, gentle and sincere and caring. “You’re welcome, Evan. Always.”

* * * * *

Michelle dragged herself to breakfast on Monday morning, feeling like she could do with another weekend already. She’d stumbled into the common room with Maxi, still half-asleep, while Tammy hogged the shower, then let Maxi take the bathroom next while she sorted out her books for the day. In the end, she had to hurry her own ablutions, and she still wasn’t happy with her hair when she made it to the Great Hall. In contrast, Evan had been up early, she knew, as she’d run into him heading back to his dorm when she first got up, dressed in his running gear and attractively flushed and sweaty.

He’d saved her a seat, as usual, and she squeezed in next to him and reached for the cereal. He gave her a sidelong look and said nothing, clearly realising she wasn’t in much of a mood to talk just yet. She was considering a piece of toast when a post owl landed in front of Maxi bearing a large box. No-one had to ask - yet another of the regular packages from Maxi’s mum, and they all knew that Maxi would share out the contents later on, after class. Her mum did the _best_ cakes, even considering the flight afterwards.

Many other students were also receiving parcels and letters, but there was a greater-than-usual disturbance over on the Gryffindor table as a whole flock of owls jostled to deliver to the same person. It was Potter and his gang, Granger and the twins’ younger brother, Ron. Whatever they were doing was causing a minor commotion, and moments later, Professor Umbridge swooped over to talk to them. Michelle couldn’t hear what was said, but Evan was watching the show, too, and now the rest of the Hufflepuff table was starting to catch on, turning in their seats and craning their necks with unabashed curiosity.

“Is that a crime now? Getting mail?” There was no missing Fred Weasley’s loud, angry voice.

“I wonder what all that’s about,” said Chris.

“I guess we can ask the twins later, after Herbology,” said Mike, with a shrug

The hum of conversation around the Great Hall had almost entirely died away, but Michelle couldn’t make out more than a general murmur between Umbridge and Potter. Finally, Potter passed her something, almost threw it at her, and the little Professor snatched it away from him.

“Whoa! Looks like Umbridge is about to burst a blood vessel!” said Becky in an undertone.

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be a shame, like?” Maxi snorted.

Puce-faced and shaking with anger, Umbridge stormed away back to the staff table. Well, stormed was a bit strong. Given her lack of height and unimpressive appearance, it looked more like a tantrum.

“OK, now I really _do _have to know,” said Tammy. “Whatever it is, I bet it must be good.”

Indeed, the twins were looking very smug all through Herbology, but it was only when they got back to the castle that Michelle and the rest of her friends caught up with them.

“All right Fred, George?” Mike said, with an enquiring look.

“Ooh, yes. Delightful!” said George, with a happy sigh.

“Little rays of sunshine wherever you look,” Fred agreed. “Over there, for example.”

On the noticeboard by the doors to the Great Hall, yet another black-bordered poster had made its appearance.

“Oh, for crying out loud, what _now_?” Evan sighed.

** — BY ORDER OF —**

** THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS**

_ Any student found in possession of the magazine _The Quibbler _will be expelled._

_ The above is in accordance with_

_ ** Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven** _

_ Dolores Jane Umbridge_

_ HIGH INQUISITOR_

_ 26 February, 1996_

“Uh… _The Quibbler_?” Becky’s confusion was mirrored by the others, making the twins chuckle merrily.

“Yup! A bastion of fair and unbiased investigative journalism, just what we need in these benighted times,” said Fred airily.

“You should buy a copy,” said George. “Support independent journalism, that sort of thing.”

The Hufflepuffs exchanged baffled looks, but despite their questions, the twins would say nothing more on the way up to Charms.

For the practical part of the lesson, rather than pair up as usual, by unspoken agreement the Hufflepuffs found partners in opposing houses. Michelle found herself working with Emma Carroll of Ravenclaw, who looked a little puzzled but accepted her offer to partner off readily enough.

They worked together happily enough, charming the teapot in front of them to dispense different teas with each pour. It took a bit of getting used to, but Michelle had got the hang of it and Emma had just followed an Oolong with what tasted like raspberry leaf when Michelle ventured, “So… do you know what all that fuss of Umbridge’s was about, this morning?”

Emma’s eyes darted around them. “Let’s just say she’s not happy with the news, this morning,” she said, a sly smile hovering on her lips.

“I guess you must mean _The Quibbler_? Something clearly happened this morning at breakfast, too, but the twins just looked smug when we tried to ask them.”

“You mean you don’t know? Check out the front page! I mean, I don’t know if I believe it, but the Ministry has been using the press to attack Potter all summer, so he’s using the same tactics against them. You’ve got to make-” Emma suddenly broke off, and went white. “Actually, maybe not. I don’t think you guys want to read this, after all,” she said, staring hard at the teapot quietly steaming on the desk in front of them.

_The Ministry, Potter… well, three guesses what it would be about_. “Well, you can’t just leave it there, after saying that. Someone must have a copy that they can lend us. Although I guess we need to make sure Umbridge never finds out about it.”

“Well.” She shrugged uncomfortably, “I guess you’re going to find out from someone.” The Ravenclaw girl reached into her bag and passed her a slim binder marked ‘Transfig. Homework’

“What’s this?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy getting expelled! Someone made copies earlier. Go to the ‘Assignments’ section, tap your wand in each corner of the first page, like a giant ‘Z’. Password is ‘Glumbumble Pie’. To hide it again, tap once and say ‘Nox’.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Maybe don’t thank me until later.”

Hesitantly, Michelle took the folder and slid it into her bag, just in time for Professor Flitwick to announce the end of the lesson - and the inevitable homework, to be demonstrated at the beginning of their next lesson.

“Well? Anyone?” Ravi asked, as soon as they were in the corridor and on their way to the Great Hall and lunch.

“Actually, I got-”

They rounded the corner, and Ravi nearly walked smack into the squat figure of Professor Umbridge, who was glowering at them, her lips narrowed to a thin line.

“Turn out your bags. All of you, right now.”

They exchanged confused looks. “What? Why?” said Maxi.

“What’s going on?” added Evan.

“Never mind that, do as you’re told! Turn out your bags.”

Michelle felt a sudden, icy swoop of terror. _Emma, your charms better be bloody good, or I’m dead_.

Evan was not to be moved, however. “Can I ask what you’re looking for, Professor?”

“You know very well what I’m looking for, Fielding. And if I find it, you’ll be out of this school so quick your feet won’t touch the ground!”

“And what reason do you have to suspect us of anything, Professor?”

_Evan, how can you be so _calm _in all this?!_

“I’ll question whomever I please, Fielding, and I do not have to explain myself to the likes of you! Now, empty those bags, or it’ll be detention for the lot of you!”

Evan looked calmly around his friends again and then, with such disdain that it made her breathing hitch, he simply turned his bag upside down and let textbooks, notepads, quills, and the like all rain down onto the floor.

The look on Umbridge’s face at his actions was ugly indeed, but on seeing it roll off him without effect, she sorted through his possessions with a few rough jerks of her wand. Her lip twitched in disappointment, and then then she rounded on Mike. “You! Now!”

Mike’s scowl was a fearsome thing, indeed, but rather than copy Evan, he opened his bag and pulled out his ink pot, before turning the opening towards the Professor. Umbridge seized his bag in one thick-fingered, beringed hand and upended it, shaking it out despite Maxi’s half-stifled, protesting curses. Again, nothing but textbooks, homework, and a rain of odds and ends.

_Not me, don’t choose me, not me, please not-_

“You!”

Michelle jumped, and dithered for a moment in panic before Umbridge snatched her bag out of her shaking hands and upended it, too. Books and paper cascaded on to the floor, together with hair ties, her compact, a few sweets, and her pencils and quills. She lunged for her tumbling ink pot too late, and it smashed on the floor, sending glass and droplets of ink flying.

“My homework!”

Umbridge jumped back in surprise and gave her an absolutely foul look at the black smears now speckling her shoes, as if it was all her fault. Michelle, however, was already kneeling to snatch her work out of the rapidly-growing puddle of ink.

Umbridge flung Michelle’s bag down on top of the mess, making her flinch. “I know some of you seem to think you can flout the rules with impunity. Be assured, I _will _find any such troublemakers, and they shall rue the day!”

With that, the little professor turned on her heels and stormed away up the corridor.

“What the hell? Can she even do that?” she heard Chris say.

Evan knelt beside her and helped gather up her things. He took her textbooks from her shaking hands and slid them into her bag.

“Foul, evil little toad!” Becky spat in disgust. “What the hell is she playing at?!”

“You all right, Michelle?” Evan asked softly.

She nodded wordlessly, unable to look at any of them, and continued to grab her things while Mike explored his vocabulary of insults. Emma’s homework folder. _My __Transfig.__ essay, damn it! Oh, damn it, the ink’s all over it, and I think my compact’s broken, too-_

“_Tergeo. Tergeo_.” A few quiet spells, and Evan had rescued her work. “_Reparo, Reparo_.” Her ink-pot, although empty, flew back into one piece, and why did she feel like crying? “Hey. It’s all right.” His hand was on her shoulder, warm and soothing.

“Chin up, mate, nothing to worry about,” Maxi said awkwardly.

“Yeah, don’t let her get to you, Michelle,” added Becky, helping Mike shove everything back in his bag.

“Got everything, Mike? You guys go on ahead, we’ll catch you up in a minute,” said Evan.

“Err… righto.”

She heard footsteps around her and risked a look up. Evan was watching her with care and concern on his face, and then, very gently, he enveloped her in his arms. She tensed for a second, then buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him tightly, letting the shivers run through her body while her breathing steadied. It was a long moment before she felt ready to pull away. He smiled reassuringly at her, his beautiful blue eyes locked on hers, and suddenly she felt shivers of a different kind.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely. “I-”

_-Love you_.

But of course, she didn’t dare say that. Instead, she quickly turned away, and scooped the remainder of her belongings back into her bag. She could feel his eyes on her, and then he turned away to gather up his own things.

A few moments later, he held out his hand and helped pull her to her feet. “You ready?”

She nodded, and they set off for the Great Hall. It took an act of will from her to let go of his hand..

“I, uh… Emma gave me something. In Charms,” she explained.

He quickly glanced over at her. “Yeah? Well, I guess we’d better gather the troops somewhere quiet and have a look at it.”

They found their friends in their usual spot at the Hufflepuff table.

“All right, Michelle?” Becky asked.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Michelle’s got something for us. Eat up, then meet in our dorm.”

She sped through her lunch, although her stomach seemed to have shrunk to the size of a pea, and they made their way as a group back to the Hufflepuff common room and the seventh-year boys’ dorm.

Mike shut the door firmly behind them, and then there was a ring of expectant faces, all looking at her. Quickly, she fumbled in her bag for the folder Emma had passed to her.

“So, um… I asked Emma about the thing with _The Quibbler _in Charms. She gave me something.”

She pulled out the homework folder and held it up in front of them.

“I see why you were so freaked out,” said Tammy.

“Yeah, no wonder,” added Mike. “Well, let’s see it, then.”

Michelle took a deep breath, bit her lip, and opened it to the ‘Assignments’ section. She could feel the puzzlement of her friends until she tapped each corner of the parchment with her wand and whispered, “Glumbumble Pie.”

The silence as the ink rippled and reformed into the familiar masthead of _The Quibbler_ was profound.

_ ** HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:** _

_ ** THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED** _

_ ** AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN** _

It took a moment for the headline to sink in, then they all crowded a little closer to try to read it from all angles until Becky said, “Someone just read it out, we can’t all see it at once.”

Perhaps inevitably, Michelle thought, they all turned to look at Evan. He didn’t look especially happy, but he took the folder from her and skimmed it for a moment, then began to read aloud, his voice quiet and rather hoarse. It was hard enough to hear Potter describe his admiration for Cedric, but the description of the final task, especially its conclusion, was almost impossible to bear.

_Oh, Cedric! Just the sort of stupid thing you would do, isn’t it? To give up on victory because the game wasn’t played the right way. Why, oh why, did you have to accept Potter’s offer to share the cup? Why couldn’t you have just been selfish, just that once? It’s not even selfish, Potter was right. You won. You won, and you gave it all away._

“-completely dark, but we were in some sort of churchyard. We were trying to work out if it was part of the task. Neither of us had expected the Cup to be a portkey. Cedric suggested we draw wands, just in case, and we did so. A moment later, we saw a small person approaching us, carrying something in their arms that looked like a baby. That was so unexpected, I don’t think either of us knew what to do next. I know I didn’t.

“And then-” Evan broke off, and swallowed. “And then I heard a voice say, ‘Kill the spare’, and the small figure lifted a wand and spoke the killing curse.”

He dropped his arms and looked away, swallowing heavily with his lips pressed firmly together. Michelle was blinking back tears herself, an awful, aching chasm in her middle. _Oh, Cedric_!

“Sounds a lot like Cedric, doesn’t it?” Mike muttered gruffly, his accent so thick as to be almost impenetrable.

Chris was the only one who could reply. “Yeah. Right to the very end.”

Michelle heard some deep, unsteady breaths around her. Maxi wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and muttered something to him in a low voice, lips brushing his cheek tenderly. Becky and Tammy patted Ravi on the back and gave Chris a hug as well as each other, but Michelle’s eyes were locked on Evan. His jaw was set rigidly, the folder hanging forgotten from his hands. She reached out and gently took it from him and tossed it on the bed behind her, then steeled herself and slid her arms around him. He closed his eyes and pulled her close and, a moment later, she felt his head resting on hers.

One by one, the others left them. When they were finally alone, she reluctantly released him, and instead took his hand and sat beside him on the bed.

He stared past her into space, his eyes a thousand miles away. “Mike was right, wasn’t he? Just like him. And a part of me wants to blame Potter. I mean, Cedric won. He should have got the damn cup. But I suppose that might have meant that he’d just have disappeared. It was all set up for whoever got the cup first, anyway, wasn’t it? And I hate Potter for trying to share. Even though he can’t have known.”

“Yeah.”

“The spare. The bloody _spare_!” he burst out, “The best bloody mate you could ever-, he was never a-,” He broke off with a guttural sound, almost a grunt of pain. His breath hissed between his teeth, and after a long moment, he refocused, his voice tightly-controlled once more. “I suppose I’m getting use to it. Cedric not being around, I mean. But to see it, to hear the details…”

“Brings it all back, doesn’t it? I miss him so much, Evan.”

“Yeah,” he said in a whisper. “So do I.”

"But we’ve got each other, at least.” _You’ve got me, always. _“Evan, I-”

But her courage failed her. _This isn’t the time. It really isn’t. _

“I guess we ought to get to class.”

* * * * *

The whispers and furtive conversations were everywhere by the end of the day. In corridors, in classes, in the loos and common rooms and broom cupboards. People stopped and stared at Potter whenever he showed up - and at the Hufflepuff seventh-years, too. Was it true? Did it really happen like that? Was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named really back, or was it all some sort of ruse? Meanwhile, Umbridge was storming around the castle in a temper, demanding that random students turn out their bags, but fortunately any copies of _The Quibbler_ must have been disguised much as Emma’s had been, and her impotent fury was just that.

There was nothing for it but to put their heads down and focus on their classes while the rumours swirled around them. Certainly, Michelle didn’t want to discuss it or join in on the speculation. She had hidden the contents of Emma’s folder again, although she had to check four times to reassure herself that it really was showing an innocuous Transfiguration assignment before she could get it back to Emma after class.

Evan was very quiet for the rest of the day, barely saying a word he didn’t have to, and he disappeared after class again despite the cold and the heavy showers outside. She was reasonably sure that he’d gone to see the hippogriffs. He’d become quite attached to them, and the bay hen and her colt were certainly attached to him. Instead, she hung out with Tammy while she flirted with Roger Davies and Carl Bradley from Ravenclaw, and caught up with Grant Page, Vinu Bhatia, and Megan Beckton. Alicia Spinnet and Kenny Towler came by, too. Karen Alsop and Lee Jordan stopped in to meet them all on the way to dinner, and Lee caught up to her as they headed down to the Great Hall.

“I thought I saw Evan heading outside after class. Do you know where he was going? It looks horrible out there.”

She summoned a smile. “Yeah, he’s been busy on his Care of Magical Creatures project. And now he’s got a hippogriff to raise, it seems!” she added, trying for a bit of levity, and Lee’s wide, easy smile appeared.

“Ha! He’s practically adopted the whole herd, from what I’ve heard!”

“Well, not quite, but I think Hagrid’s delighted. He’s finally got someone properly interested in them.”

“Just as long as he keeps them well fed,” Lee said. “They’re cool to look at, but I wouldn’t want to mess with them!”

The seventh-years split up to go to their various house tables, and Michelle was pleased to see sausage and mash waiting for them. She kept an eye out as she ate, but dinner was nearly over by the time Evan finally appeared. He had a heavy cloak over his shoulders that still steamed slightly from his drying charm, and his wet hair stuck up in spikes.

“All right, Evan? You look absolutely soaked! How’s the chick coming along?”

Evan summoned a tired smile, and took a seat beside her. “He’s fine, although he’s not really much of a chick any more now that he’s shedding his down. I spent most of my time with Nigel, actually.”

“Nigel?”

“One of the porlocks. He’s probably the closest one to tame, or at least, he’s the bravest of them. It’s not that easy to sit quietly when you’ve got Caroline sticking her beak in - literally - and Storm wanting to play.”

“They have the oddest names! How’s your project coming along?”

“To be honest, I’ve got pretty much everything I need and I’ve started revising my draft report. I’ll keep up with the diaries and so on until the end of the Easter hols, but other than that, I think I’m good. It’s kind of a relief, actually, because once I get this done I’ll be able to concentrate more on all my other classes ahead of exams.”

They chatted off and on about the peculiar little horse guardians while Evan wolfed down some sausages, and then he asked her about Potions and Herbology while he finished dessert.

“I suppose we ought to get back to the common room and see what’s what on the homework front,” he said, with a groan. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, sure.” They strolled for the Entrance Hall, but before they turned for their common room, she caught his sleeve. “Hey, look, um… can I talk to you? Somewhere quiet?”

He looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”

They found an empty classroom on the first floor. Michelle felt a bit weird closing the door behind herself, just the two of them, all alone, but Evan had leaned up against a desk a short distance away and was watching her carefully.

“Well... I don’t quite know how to start this, but...” She took a deep breath. “I noticed it after Christmas, but I wondered if it was just a temporary thing. You’ve been in a bit of a funny mood recently, and I just wondered if everything is OK?”

His small half-smile vanished, and he looked away. “Are you sure you want to get in to this?”

She felt a sudden chill but steeled herself to ask anyway. “Yeah. You look like you need someone to talk to, so if you feel like it, then I’m right here.”

He straightened up and took a few steps away from her, and she could hear his indecision in the irregular pattern of his breathing. Finally, he pursed his lips for a moment and answered. “Mum and I talked over the Christmas break. About lots of things, really, but...”

He broke off, chewing his lip and fidgeting anxiously, and the dread settled in her stomach.

“Mum and I talked about getting out. After I finish school, I mean.” His voice was very quiet, so much so that she had to lean forward to hear. “Mum’s parents moved to Spain after they retired. Dad’s family never had much to do with us anyway, and… well, Mum’s got some cousins in Canada.”

“Really? Y-you’d just… leave?”

“I know, not very ‘Hufflepuff’, is it? But every day that passes, the more that reaches the news... Cedric... I think Potter was right. Maybe it really was You-Know-Who. And, and... not again, Michelle. What Mum went through, what we lost last time... not again.”

“Evan... I, uh...,” she flailed, lost for words. “I don’t blame you in many ways, but the Ministry-”

He cut her off, his face twisted in an uncharacteristic sneer, “What about the Ministry? Just look at that shower of liars, bigots, and incompetents! Just look at what they provided as our Defence teacher this year - and she’s the Minister’s right hand! Look at what they’re doing to Professor Dumbledore, for Merlin’s sake! I wouldn’t trust any of them further than I could throw them!”

“Well… maybe, but, um-”

“And do you want to live in a country run by the likes of Umbridge? Can you imagine! No, Mum and I agreed. If it looks like You-Know-Who really is coming out of the woodwork again, we’ll be on the first portkey out.”

“And what about us?” She couldn’t have stopped herself for anything, “Where does that leave the rest of us, Evan?”

_What about you and me?_

She watched, furious with him, furious with herself for saying it, furious with herself for _not _saying _it_, and utterly ashamed at seeing him crumple in on himself. He didn’t sink into a chair, or put his head in his hands, or anything dramatic, he just looked away, sick and crushed and conflicted - and for a few seconds, she thought her calm, stoic, hugely-strong best friend was going to cry.

“I don’t know.”

Three grating, breathless words, forced out with every ounce of his will.

The door burst open behind them and a couple tumbled in on a cloud of sultry giggles only to stop dead when they saw the room was already occupied.

“Whoa, hey, sorry, um… wow! Er… great Merlin, we’ll just be, um…”

Roger Stebbins beat a sheepish retreat, still towing Sandra Fawcett behind him, but it was too late. Evan took a few huge breaths, each one forcing away more of the faint tremors that ran through him. By the time the door shut behind the amorous intruders, he had recovered his composure - or at least, a good enough impression of it.

“Everything changes,” he said quietly. “After this year, when school’s finished, it all changes, anyway. How and what that will mean for everyone, I don’t know. Who knows, maybe by the end of term it’ll all be sorted out and we can forget about this.”

“And if it isn’t?”

He was silent for a long moment. “Then Mum and I have a decision to make.”


	17. Ravenclaw v Slytherin

Michelle and Evan had talked almost until curfew before having to hurry to make it back to the common room in time, and since then, she found it difficult to know how to act around him. It wasn’t because he had let her see the anger and despair and confusion that lay beneath his usual calm, composed, and quietly determined manner - if anything, she felt even closer to him that he would open up to her like that - but she couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t confided in her, and she couldn’t think of anything to help him. Evan was not someone who ever felt comfortable at not knowing the right thing to do, and this time, he was lost. On one level, he knew that leaving was a logical and sensible thing to do if the dire premonitions of You-Know-Who’s return came true - _and I can see that, too_. On another, he felt the close emotional pull of home and friends - _and me? _\- telling him to stay. The lack of any certainty about the security situation only confused matters further. Dumbledore’s position was clear, and they all respected the Headmaster immensely, but the Ministry were equally as adamant in their denials. _And then there’s Cedric - and the Ministry would happily pretend that never happened_.

And there was still all the day-to-day school and stress that didn’t go away in the mean time. He had summed it up, _There’s all this stuff going on in terms of home and the future, but right now I have to focus on school and N.E.W.T.s and Quidditch and the hippogriffs, and it’s all very short term but I _have _to deal with this first, and it’s the only stuff that I have any sort of control over. But I don’t have much control over that, either. I mean, just look at what’s going on! Umbridge doing her best to interfere with everything about Hogwarts, and kids are getting bullied and hexed, and… and so I just sort of blunder on and do whatever’s in front of me, and I never seem to have _time_. _

Worse was trying to keep it to herself. It wasn’t like he had wanted to tell her, let alone anyone else, so she felt that it was important to keep his confidence until he decided to tell the others that life after Hogwarts might take him away entirely - and how advanced those plans were. Their friends knew that something was going on - even on the train back to Hogwarts after Christmas it had been obvious something was bothering him - and she had overheard one or other of them talking about his distracted air after their return to school a few times, too. _But this is his decision to make. And who knows, maybe it will all blow over. But I don’t really believe that, either, do I? What does a future without Evan look like? Why is it so difficult to think that he won’t be around? That _none _of my friends will be around. I won’t get to see Mike and Maxi much, that’s for sure, and the others will be moving on with their lives, too. Maybe I’ll see the ones who stay in London, if I end up down there. But at this point, none of us really know. Like Evan said, you just have to carry on and do whatever’s in front of you, right now, and hope that the future pans out._

And so there was nothing for it but to knuckle down with traditional Hufflepuff determination and try to plough through class and homework, and, increasingly, revision, too. Transfiguration wasn’t too bad, and working on Charms and Herbology with the others was a slog but do-able. Progress on their self-taught Defence ‘homework’ remained depressingly slow, but she tried to console herself with the thought that at least they wouldn’t be going into the practical part of their N.E.W.T. completely cold. In Potions she was very aware of Anastasia Halkett behind her, and it was even harder than usual to concentrate on her work with the waves of malevolence she could almost feel bouncing off her unprotected back, but dirty looks were all she got. After the clash that had put her in the hospital wing, Halkett kept her wand to herself and her mouth shut for a change, and she could only hope it would continue as long as possible.

It wasn’t just the seventh-years that were feeling the strain, the fifth-years were also under pressure with the upcoming O.W.L.s and impending sense of doom that left Hannah Abbott in tears of frustration over her Potions assignment late one night when the fire had burned low and most of the other students had long since made their way to bed. Hannah needed reassurance more than actual coaching, but like many of them stress levels were high and tempers were running short, and even fast friends Ernie and Justin managed to have a falling-out over the proper wand-movement to transfigure a kitten into a teapot.

Quidditch promised to be a temporary distraction, at least, with Ravenclaw due to play Slytherin on the weekend. The usual scuffles in the corridors and the attempted hexing and counter-cursing aimed at the Quidditch players was rather more blatant than usual until Professor Flitwick found two of his third-years having a stand-up magical brawl with some counterparts in Slytherin outside his Charms class. A sternly-delivered warning that the next students that felt like duelling would find themselves trying their luck against him quietened things down considerably. Given that he was a renowned duelling champion in his younger years, it should have been enough to give even the cockiest student pause, but it still didn’t stop the slow drip of bumps and trips and insults and anonymous hexing-from-behind entirely. Roger Davies was furious, and he and Trish had ordered the Prefects to patrol between classes and try to keep order, but they simply couldn’t be everywhere at once. Initially, most of the teachers had tried to help by letting the prefects out a few minutes early, but inevitably that came to Umbridge’s ears, and she quickly put a stop to it.

_I don’t ever remember the school being like this, not even during the Chamber of Secrets thing or when Sirius Black was running around. I suppose it’s too much to hope things settle down, but they’re going to have to. Aren’t they? Maybe once Quidditch is out of the way. _

* * * * *

Evan let himself slow from a steady jog to a walk, and turned for the castle. March had brought a general improvement in the weather and a welcome uptick in the temperature, but the grass was still slick with a heavy, early-morning dew, and the air was frigid on his exposed skin. He was the only student mad enough to be outside at such an early hour on a weekend, although he could see a thin trickle of smoke from Hagrid’s chimney that suggested the big man was awake and setting himself up for the day.

He stopped on the steps to charm his shoes clean before stepping into the castle. Taking his wand with him was a good way to clean up and avoid the gimlet eye and displeasure of Mr. Filch, but recently it had also felt like a sensible defensive measure. _Or maybe I’m just getting paranoid after Warrington hexed Kenny in the back yesterday after Defence? For nothing, too, the cowardly bell-end!_ Of course, Umbridge _had_ to be first on the scene, and had added insult to injury by taking twenty points off Gryffindor for Kenny’s ‘provocation’. Lee and Karen nearly had to hold Trish back from hexing her at that point.

He stepped through the wicket gate into the Entrance Hall, feeling his skin prickle at the change in temperature. On the opposite side of the hall, heading for an early breakfast, was the ever-unwelcome figure of Draco Malfoy, with Pansy Parkinson smugly clinging limpet-like to his arm and his usual shadows in Crabbe and Goyle at his back. Malfoy eyed him up and down with immense disdain, “Merlin! Stinking like some sort of animal. How _apt_.”

Parkinson, of course, brayed with laughter, which Evan ignored, heading for the Hufflepuff dorms.

“Perhaps if you bothered your lazy arse now and again, Malfoy, you might actually get somewhere near the Snitch ahead of Potter,” said a bored, long-suffering voice. He looked around in time to see Engel nod at him as he strolled into the Great Hall with a book clutched under his arm. “Morning, Evan.”

“Morning, Gabriel.”

He continued for the dorms, not bothering to listen to the threats that Malfoy hurled after him.

After a shower, he went back to the common room with his Care of Magical Creatures project until the rest of the Quidditch team had emerged, then they went up to breakfast as a group. The Ravenclaw team were already there, sitting together at their table, so they went over to say Hi.

“Roger, I don’t care what ya do, I don’t care how ya do it, just make sure ya beat those bastards!” Mike said, with a scowl across the hall.

“I don’t mind losing the Cup to you guys,” added Maxi. “I can even put up with the Lions winning it again, but for the sake of all that’s magic, not those arseholes in Slytherin!”

“Now there’s something we can all get behind,” said Carl Bradley, with a grin. “It’s very accommodating of you, Maxi!”

“I’d not be so accommodating if it was us out there against yers, Carl, ya can be sure o’ that!”

He chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. “Oh, I remember very well. Thankfully, the bruises fade soon enough.”

“Some of them do,” said Tammy, grinning at Helen Chambers. “You practised your human cannonball moves on Evan last time out, Helen, let’s see if you can do the same to Bletchley!”

Helen rolled her eyes despite the smile on her lips, protesting, “It was an accident!”

The rest of them laughed, and Evan said with a smile, “Well, I believe you, thousands wouldn’t!”

The leg-pulling and teasing continued for some time until they retreated to their own table to eat and leave the Ravenclaws in peace.

Back in the common room, Evan spotted Michelle sitting in the same spot she’d been in when he left, still surrounded by piles of parchment and textbooks. She was dressed this time, but her hair was still a bed-head mess and she looked worn and frazzled. After some hesitation, he went over to her.

“Hey. Have you had anything to eat, yet?

She looked up at him and tried to summon a smile, and he could see the bags under her eyes. “No, not quite, I just really need to get this stuff under control, and I haven’t had time. I’ll go in a minute, I suppose.”

“Potions?”

“Yeah. And Charms” She sighed and closed her eyes for a long moment. “You know what it’s like. Loads to do for homework, and then I have to do all the prep, as well.”

“Would you like me to get you something?” he asked quietly. “Bacon roll?”

“Oh, would you?”

“I think you could do with a break, but if you can’t then the break will just have to come to you. Back in a minute.”

He returned to the Great Hall, and stopped in the doorway. To their obvious outrage, the Slytherins were now all sporting Ravenclaw-blue hair, a sure sign that the Weasleys had been busy again. With a shrug, he doubled back to the kitchens, instead, and a minute later he had a bacon roll and a cup of tea that he could slide onto Michelle’s table. She looked down at the food, then up at him and, to his surprise, got up and hugged him.

“Thank you.”

He rubbed her back slowly, and felt her relax against him. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Tired, is all. I was up late last night and I just really, really want to finish this stuff.”

He reluctantly let her go. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. Don’t flog yourself over it, though, there’s always tomorrow.”

“I know, but I want to get it done so that I’ve got tomorrow free to spend with Alicia, Vinu, and Emma. I’ll see you after Quidditch, probably.”

He left her there and fetched his bag from his dorm, finding a spot on the other side of the room with Ravi, Becky, and Chris.

“She’s got you well-trained,” Ravi snickered, as he took his seat, but he ignored the humour and dug out his Herbology essay again.

The anticipatory hum around the common room slowly built, and by ten o’clock there was little point in continuing to slave over their books, so they swapped quills for warm clothing and joined the stream of students heading down to the stadium. Rafa and his mates Kerry and Ben joined them, and they made a cheerful knot down the front of the stand with the rest of the Quidditch team. All except for Smith, who perched up on the highest row at the back, scribbling notes on a pad and scowling in fierce concentration at every movement on the field.

Mike had brought a big bag of Allsorts and was passing them around while they all settled in, discussing Ravenclaw’s prospects for the game.

“So, you think Slytherin can keep them off for long enough to make a game of it? The Ravenclaws looked really good against you guys,” Kerry was asking Maxi.

She made a thoughtful face, and replied, “I’m not sure we set much of a standard, first time out! The Slytherin Chasers aren’t too bad, although not up ter Roger, Carl, and Helen’s level. Their Beaters are too slow, but that Crabbe is surprisingly accurate. I think a lot of it will come down ter the Seekers.”

“Ha! Cho can fly rings around Malfoy, even with his fancy broom!” Tammy snorted.

“Normally, yeah, but she gets frustrated an’ tends ter lose focus, and if there’s one thing Malfoy’s good at, it’s mouthing off. She’s going ter have him in her ear the whole time.”

“I see what you mean. And she’s got some pretty wide-open vulnerable points that anyone with any decency wouldn’t dream of touching - which of course means that little scrote will talk of nothing else.”

“Exactly.”

“_Welcome, everyone, to our fourth big match of the season here at Hogwarts, it’s Ravenclaw against Slytherin!”_

Lee Jordan’s voice was greeted with a roar of enthusiasm all around the stadium, and as much as the Hufflepuffs cheered the announcement of their Ravenclaw friends’ names, the Slytherins got the raspberry with even more fervour, although a few people had the self-awareness to laugh at their vehemence.

“It’s kind of fun when it’s not us out there,” Tammy said cheerfully to the rather shocked-looking youngsters. Seconds earlier, she had been screaming at Miles Bletchley at the top of her lungs to do something anatomically impossible with a blast-ended Skrewt and a bucket of Tabasco sauce.

“_Roger Davies is going forward for the traditional pre-match handshake, but the undisputed winner of the Hogwarts Most Charming Smile contest will need a bit more than flashing the pearly-whites to get past Miles Bletchley today._”

Evan saw Kerry and Rafa exchange a dubious look, and had to hide a grin. “What do we reckon, then, are the Slytherins here for a game or a fight, this time?”

Madam Hooch’s whistle was barely audible above the crowd to begin the game.

“We’re about to find out,” said Tammy, adding a loud cheer of, “_C’mon, Roger!_” at ear-splitting volume.

“It’s all right, she just fancies him,” Ravi said to the youngsters, trying to stifle his laughter.

Tammy looked around at him like he was daft. “Yeah. And?”

“You’re in a very long queue, that’s all.”

“Yeah. And?”

The others laughed, and Ravi joined in, shrugging. “Just saying.”

Out on the field, the object of Tammy’s unabashed ogling was driving the Ravenclaw chasers forward, a tight, flat three without the Quaffle that quickly opened up when they had possession, Carl Bradley anchoring to dictate play as he usually did. The Slytherins, meanwhile, were relying on their traditional Hawkshead to give them attacking thrust. The Hawkshead, and a liberal amount of cobbing and barging when opposing players came together. Jason Samuels broke up one chance with a well-aimed Bludger, but that didn’t stop Montague and Warrington from scoring the opening two goals before Helen Chambers broke away to reply for the Ravens.

“Come on, come on, what the hell are ya doing, Roger?” Maxi muttered impatiently, craning her neck over the edge of the stand to get a better look as the Ravenclaws were driven back towards their own end again.

“The Snakes’re settin’ traps, an’ they’re flyin’ right into ‘em,” said Mike, pointing. “See that? They just set Bradley up with Montague and Pucey, and Crabbe pings ‘em with the Bludger. They’ve done it to Roger, an’ all.”

Pucey added another goal, and Lee Jordan’s commentary took on a slightly anguished tone. Clearly, seeing Slytherin dominate was hard on his Gryffindor soul.

“_-And Davies has called for a time out, it’s a breather for the Birds to get a handle on themselves after a very disjointed start. They’re showing little of the tight passing that was on display against Hufflepuff, and you have to credit Slytherin’s discipline and tactics so far._”

“Merlin, I thought Lee was going to puke, having to say that,” said Tammy.

“I thought _I_ was going to puke hearing it,” snorted Becky. “_Come on, Carl, pull your bloody finger out!_”

“I notice you’re not yelling at Roger, he’s barely been involved so far,” Ravi pointed out with a smile.

Becky shook her fist at him jokingly, making him laugh. “Yeah, but Roger’s lovely, don’t forget.”

“Ah, what it is to be beautiful.”

“You'd know, mate, the girls have made you beautiful often enough this year,” Evan said.

Ravi laughed, “But sequins at Quidditch is just so _gauche_! I’m afraid you’ll just have to live with me as I am, today.”

The bewildered looks on Ben and Kerry’s faces was almost better than the game. “Don’t worry, guys, you get used to them,” Rafa told them.

The break seemed to have done the Ravenclaws some good, and they gradually took a stranglehold on the game. Megan Beckton and Jason Samuels were more experienced and more nimble than Slytherin’s hulking Beaters, and by focusing on speed over accuracy, they were able to cut Crabbe and Goyle out of the game, leaving their Chasers exposed. Roger Davies and Carl Bradley began to swap position back and forth, too, creating space that Warrington in particular didn’t seem to be able to read, and the goals began to mount up in the Ravens’ favour. Roger Davies brought up their century on the hour mark, while Slytherin had only added two more, making it 100-50.

“_Warrington out to Pucey again, now, and-_Malfoy breaks sharply for the Ravenclaw end!_” _The abrupt change in Lee’s commentary brought everyone to their feet, heads snapping around to see the green-and-silver figure streaking away from centre field. “_Into a steep dive, but Chang’s not following, and… yes, Malfoy’s giving it up, it looks like a feint but Chang wasn’t buying it, and meanwhile you can see Bletchley really getting stuck into Pucey, he dropped the Quaffle just as Malfoy went after the Snitch and that lapse of concentration from the Slytherin Chaser has meant another Ravenclaw goal from Chambers, I think it was, 110-50, and the Birds are really getting into their stride_.”

“Birds, he said - shouldn’t it be getting into their flap, or something? Taking flight? Starting to soar?”

“Shut up, Ravi!”

Coming forward out of the Slytherin half, Pucey’s pass found Warrington. Helen Chambers swooped in on him to try to steal the Quaffle away, and Warrington bored in hard on her as they wrestled for the ball, overpowering her broom and steering her into a fearsome collision with Montague, still driving in on her back. That drew a sharp _Ooh!_ and loud jeers from the crowd, and then sporadic cheers as Madam Hooch blew for a Blurting penalty, but sent Helen spinning down to the ground where she sprawled on her hands and knees for a long moment before lurching to her feet on wobbly legs.

“Merlin! That one must have hurt!” Tammy noted, watching anxiously as Helen staggered up and down, clearly trying to pull herself together before getting back on her broom and re-joining the fray.

Bletchley saved Bradley’s penalty, but couldn’t prevent him scoring at the second attempt.

Perhaps realising that the game was slipping away from them, the Slytherins began to fly more aggressively, and the checks and collisions became more frequent. Ravenclaw stuck to their game, although it was notable that Helen was only using one arm and holding her side when she didn’t have the Quaffle, and her injuries were definitely slowing her down. The Slytherins would have matched them goal for goal, but gave away several more penalties in the process that widened their deficit to 200-80.

“_Malfoy’s off, he’s gone again. Once more, Chang’s not interested,_ but that’s a big mistake from the Ravenclaw Seeker! _Malfoy rounds the Ravenclaw goals, diving now for pitch level and… he’s got it. Malfoy with the Snitch, and he’s dug the Slytherins out of a big hole. Ravenclaw dominated but that catch by Malfoy means Slytherin win, 230-200_.”

There were groans of disappointment from three stands, and a fair bit of swearing, too, while the Slytherins celebrated.

“I can’t believe they got away with it, that’s got them right back in the race for the Cup,” Gwion moaned. “If Cho’d just got the damn Snitch, the Snakes would have been completely out of it for the year.”

“You think that’s bad? Now I owe Gabriel three sickles and a bar of Drooble’s,” said Evan. “He’s going to be _unbearable_.”

“He’s a Slytherin, he’s unbearable at the best of times,” Becky said grumpily, getting to her feet and shuffling along to the end of the row.

“They’re still last, and Ravenclaw’s going to take some catching, this year,” Mike pointed out, as they made for the stairs. “It’s a biggun, next up, us against the Snakes.”

“We’ll have to really put some points on them to be in with a shout, though,” said Maxi. “That bloody first game really killed us.”

“I’m up for that!” said Tammy, with a laugh. “Who’s with me?”

There was a general cheer from the rest of the Hufflepuffs, and a bit of laughter.

“Well, there’s not a lot you can do about that now,” said Becky. “Onwards and upwards, and all that.”

“Onwards and downwards where lunch awaits, more like,” said Ravi. “I’m starving!”

Despite the disappointment, the conversation on the way back to the castle was relatively positive, pointing out successful tactics and other moves of note, and discussing their chances. Hufflepuff was well back in third spot overall, but while they were by no means out of it entirely, Ravenclaw still had Gryffindor to play, and the consensus was that there wasn’t much hope of the Lions avoiding a slaughter other than an improbably-early Snitch catch.

Evan poked his head in the Great Hall, which was quickly filling up with hungry students, then jogged quickly to his dorm to dump his cloak and gloves. The Slytherin table was in full celebratory mode, and he was in no real mood to listen to it, so he quickly wolfed down a helping of balti and rice and made himself scarce. The common room and homework didn’t seem all that appealing, so he made his way up to the hospital wing, instead. After a quick conversation with the matron, he found Jason, Roger, and Megan clustered around a bed containing a ferociously hacked-off looking Helen Chambers.

He gave her a cautious smile. “Hi, everyone.”

The others greeted him cheerfully enough, but Helen’s usual, sunny disposition was absent.

“Unlucky today, guys. We all thought you had them. Just a shame about the snitch, I suppose. More importantly, how are you doing, Helen? That was quite a whack you took.”

Helen made a face. “It’s mostly just bruises, but Madam Pomfrey says I fractured my upper arm, too.”

Evan sucked in a sympathetic breath. “And you still stuck it out to the end.”

She shrugged her good shoulder. “Either way, I’ve had better days.”

“Bloody Warrington did it on purpose, too,” Megs said darkly.

“Montague as well, they must have practised that,” said Jason. “That wasn’t an accident.”

“Everyone could tell - and since when is it ever an accident with them at the moment?” Evan said soberly. “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. When’s Madam Pomfrey letting you out of here, Helen? Or are you guys here to smuggle her to freedom?”

“Apparently I can go at dinner time,” she sighed, before giving him a mischievous smile that was more like her usual self. “If I’m not down there the second the food appears on the tables, Evan, I’m relying on you to break in here on a white horse and rescue me!”

The others laughed, and he said, “I think Roger’s more your Knight In Shining Armour material.”

“Sir Prance-a-lot, perhaps,” Megs muttered.

Roger ignored her and said, “Oh, come on, Evan, surely you can borrow one of those hippogriffs of yours? We can find some armour to fit you from the suits in the corridors, too.”

That made Helen laugh, and Evan said, “And where am I going to get a _white_ hippogriff?”

“Weak excuse, Evan, and you’re our Charms expert,” said Megs, shaking her head in mock-disappointment.

“Now there’s a guaranteed way to get your hippogriff to eat you. I’m not rescuing anyone if I’ve been ripped to bits.”

Megs snorted, “Can you believe that, Helen? I mean, what’s going on when we can’t even get these guys to ride to your rescue? I guess that leaves you, Jason?”

He held up his hands and took a step backwards, “Me? No way, I’m trusty squire material, but I’m no knight!”

“Is no-one going to save me, then?” Helen whined through her laughter.

“The last equine I went near was a donkey on Blackpool Sands!” laughed Jason. “You can’t possibly be suitably rescued by a bloke riding a donkey with a saucepan on his head!”

“Pathetic! I guess us girls will just have to do it for ourselves.”

“Oh Megan! My hero!”

They heard someone clear their throat pointedly, and looked around to see Madam Pomfrey had popped her head out of her office. “This is the hospital wing, you know, and Miss Chambers is supposed to be _resting_.”

“And look, there she is, resting,” said Roger, turning on the charm. It bounced off the matron with an almost audible splat.

“Resting _quietly_!”

“I’m sorry, we’ll keep it down a bit. We’re just trying to make her smile.”

“Make who smile?” asked Angelina Johnson, stepping into the hospital wing flanked by Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell. “Hi, everyone!”

“More of you?” Madam Pomfrey sighed, then shook her head. “Now, I don’t mind a few visitors, but this is getting ridiculous!”

“Are we missing something?” asked a new voice. It was Carl Bradley and Eddie Carmichael, with Helen’s dorm-mates, Pauline, Sunita, and Sandra, close behind.

“That’s it, this is a hospital, not the Great Hall! Out, all of you! No, I said out, Miss Chambers is to get some rest,” the matron insisted over their half-hearted protests, striding over to shoo them all away.

“Don’t leave me!” Helen called after them.

“Megs will be back to rescue you later, just as soon as we’ve worked out the white horse problem,” Jason promised her, as the door swung shut behind them.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the disused classroom near Ravenclaw Tower. A few more of their friends found them there as the afternoon wore on, and for the first time since coming back to school in January everything was _normal _again, just hanging out with their mates with no half-baked decrees hanging over them, and no Umbridge or Slytherin pillocks sticking their unwanted beaks in. It was great to talk about Charms with Jason and Angelina, and to commiserate with Emma Carroll about their Care of Magical Creatures projects, and take the mick out of Roger because Wimborne Wasps’ best Chaser had just agreed a deal with Kenmare instead.

Shortly before dinner, they went their separate ways - although Megs dragged Jason off in the direction of the hospital wing, presumably to fulfil her promise to rescue Helen from the matron’s clutches. Back down in Hufflepuff common room, Evan found Chris, Ravi, and Tammy sitting on a couch in the corner, chatting over the latest copy of _Quidditch Monthly_.

“Where did you disappear off to?” Chris asked, looking up.

“I went to catch up with a few people,” he said, propping himself on the arm of the couch and explaining his afternoon. “Where’s everyone else?” he asked when he’d finished.

“Professor Sprout asked for some volunteers in the greenhouses this afternoon, so Becky, Mike, and Maxi went out there to help her. They’re not back yet, but I guess they’ll turn up eventually.”

“Michelle, too?” he asked, looking around for the familiar figure of his best friend.

Tammy smiled. “She got back from the library an hour or so ago, and she was looking absolutely done in. She went off to have a lie down, and last I looked, she was asleep.”

“The poor girl was just about out on her feet,” Chris added.

“She said she wants a free day tomorrow, so she’s been killing herself to get everything done today,” said Evan, with a sigh.

“Oh well, I guess she can feel all smug tomorrow when we’re all trying to catch her up,” said Ravi. He grinned, and added, “Unless you’re going to dig your homework out and shame us all into doing it, too.”

Evan laughed, “No chance of that, I’m afraid, I’ve already missed most of the day, so I might as well write off the rest of it, too.”

* * * * *

Michelle woke up early on Sunday morning, and was surprised to find that she’d not only slept through dinner, but all through the night, as well. Climbing out of bed, she felt very stiff and strangely tired, like her body was not used to the idea of being awake and moving again. _I’d better move before I mummify completely_. Yawning, she wrapped her dressing gown around herself and found a thick pair of socks before shuffling out into the deserted common room with a book under her arm, revelling in the unusual quiet and tending to some of the plants that dotted the common room. _A perfect start to the day_.

Soon the castle began to come to life, and gradually more students joined her in the common room, some dressed, some still in pyjamas. Her stomach was growling, so she went back to her dorm to shower and dress, then headed up to the Great Hall to wait for breakfast to begin. The Hall was empty, and her footsteps echoed as she found a seat and pulled out her book. The ceiling overhead was lightening, although it was a diffuse, steel-grey murk that promised fog and low cloud. Being a Sunday morning, she wasn’t expecting anyone to be in for breakfast any time soon, not even Evan, a regular early riser.

_Evan_. She swallowed. They felt _off_, out of step, like they had somehow lost the thread of themselves and hadn’t quite managed to pick it up since that night when he had finally confided in her. He was still there, still her friend, but somehow it wasn’t _right_, and she couldn’t work out what to do to fix it. _It’s not me_, she told herself firmly. _I’ve done nothing wrong, and I don’t think he’s done anything wrong, either, but it’s going to take some time to get back to normal again. It’s not like I’d know what to do to magically fix everything, or I’d already have done it. And yesterday, there he was, looking after me with breakfast and a cup of tea. So why isn’t everything _right_?_ She dragged her thoughts away from that plaintive, almost despairing thought, and opened her novel, turning to the page she’d left off.

A pair of Slytherin third-years were the first to join her, and they gave her cautious, rather surprised nods at seeing someone up before them, and after that people began to trickle in in small bunches. After a full fry-up - uncharacteristic, but she was absolutely starving - she returned to her book until Emma and Vinu came down. She let them eat, then went over to the Ravenclaw table. Alicia stumbled down a few minutes later with Lee Jordan and Trish, but instead of eating at the Gryffindor table came to join them. Marietta Edgecombe and Eddie Carmichael looked surprised at the invasion, but budged over to let them all sit together.

If there was one thing that Hogwarts lacked, it was a comfortable space for four friends from different houses to get together and relax in poor weather. The Great Hall was too public and not very comfortable, the library risked the wrath of Madam Pince, and common rooms were generally held to be off-limits to outsiders. One of the advantages of seven years of magic education, however, was a firm grasp of transfiguration, and once they reached the room in the deserted corner tower on the third floor, they set about conjuring and transfiguring to make themselves comfortable. It quickly became a friendly contest to see who could conjure the most luxurious furniture that Vinu eventually won with a dark purple velvet chaise longue that felt like floating on a cloud. Even in jeans and a jumper, she somehow managed to look grown-up and elegant and sophisticated as she lounged full-length on her creation, reading out interesting snippets from the latest _Witch Weekly_.

They passed the morning in a state of blissful relaxation, just talking wherever the conversation would take them. Emma, of course, could talk dragons for hours, but she had endless amusing stories of her family’s life and misadventures in the Isles, too. Alicia was determined that they should all meet up in the summer after school when Flaming Nundu and Sister Strut were playing a double-bill near her house in Oxford. Flaming Nundu, in particular, had a reputation for unruly concerts, which only seemed to sharpen Alicia’s enthusiasm. Emma was well up for it, too, but Michelle and Vinu were non-committal. Privately, Michelle wished that she could be a little more like her fearless Gryffindor friend.

After lunch in the Great Hall, they returned to their dorms to pillage their dressers and gather up as many of their friends as they could pry away from their studying, and made for the fifth floor and the prefects’ bathroom by the statue of Boris the Bewildered. Trish did the honours, and they spent a glorious afternoon lounging in the massive, bubble-filled tub, or climbing out to try each others’ skincare products and nail varnish or just sit around in the warm, steamy air, and talk. She let Karen experiment with her hair, trying different styles of straight and sleek, or tight ringlets, or even just fluffed out like mad. It was great fun, but eventually she settled for her familiar, simple waves. Later, she lay on her stomach while Kenmare Kestrels and Ballycastle Bats slugged it out on the wireless, and charmed face cloths to fold themselves into swans and swim around the tub, arching their towelling necks gracefully. Trish tried transfiguring cotton balls into robins and tiny herons. The herons tended to come undone quite quickly, but her robins flitted around the room from perch to perch, twittering brightly.

They went their separate ways late in the afternoon, leaving Kenmare and Ballycastle’s dreary, low-scoring game still dragging on with no end in sight. Michelle slipped back to her dorm where she could throw herself down on her bed in a warm, comfortable heap and finish her book until Maxi and Tammy dragged her up to dinner in the Great Hall with everyone else.

“Hey. Did you have a good day?” Evan asked quietly, passing her the peas.

“Yeah, it was great! How about you?”

He chuckled, “I think I’m in the same position you were yesterday. Everything’s done, though, or good enough, anyway. Now I’m going to try and not think about any of it until tomorrow.”

“Now there’s something I can fully get behind! Oh, I feel so much better after today.”

Monday morning felt a bit like stepping back into harness and picking up the load again, but her Sunday of relaxation with friends put a spring in her step, and she noticed the others watching her with varying degrees of curiosity, puzzlement, and disbelief at her good-humoured optimism throughout the day. She caught Evan watching her a few times, too, but he’d just smile and shake his head and go back to what he was doing, heedless of the effect that he’d had on her concentration.

They were finishing dessert after dinner when she heard some sort of rumpus starting in the Entrance Hall, raised voices and… crying? Sound didn’t travel well through the thick, stone walls of the castle, but clearly something was going on, and people were stirring in their seats, their heads turning towards the doors. A few were even starting to get up when Belinda Cartwright, one of the Hufflepuff fourth-years, burst through the doors and rushed up to their table.

“Everyone! In the Entrance Hall, now! It’s Trelawney!” Belinda panted urgently. Several more students rushed in behind her, going to various house tables presumably with the same message. The general murmur of curious voices rose in volume all around them, and even some of the teachers at the high table perked up and were peering down the length of the hall, trying to gauge what was going on.

“What’s going on, Belinda?” someone asked.

“Yeah, what’s all the damn racket?” demanded another, over a broken-hearted screech from the Entrance Hall.

“It’s Trelawney! Umbridge is trying to throw her out!”

There was a moment’s hesitation while they digested the news, and then there was a deafening scrape of chairs and benches as students went to see for themselves. It started at the Hufflepuff table, but the Ravenclaws were going, too, and the Gryffindors weren’t far behind, and the Slytherins, too.

Ravi watched them go, scowling darkly. “So, she’s finally done it, has she?” he muttered. “It was only a matter of time.”

She looked over again at the tide of students flooding into the Entrance Hall, but couldn’t bring herself to get up and follow them. It seemed wrong, somehow, to go and rubberneck at someone having their life upended and their job ripped away from them. _That sort of thing shouldn’t be a spectator sport_. Ravi, Evan, and Maxi were similarly unmoved, but Tammy had joined the rush and, after a few moments’ hesitation, Becky’s natural curiosity had won out, too. Chris and Mike were hovering by the door, peering over everyone else to see, but there was no missing the loud, broken-hearted wails that echoed clearly to them through the open doors.

“I reckon we’ll hear all about it soon enough,” said Mike soberly. “I mean, Trelawney’s a crackpot, but she doesn’t deserve this sort of song-and-dance.”

“Yeah. But Umbridge gets to make a scene and rub someone’s face in it and get a woody off her power trip,” said Ravi. “Bitch!”

No one was going to disagree with him, especially as they heard Umbridge’s gloating voice carrying easily into the Great Hall, her delight in Trelawney’s distress unmistakable. Professor Sprout stepped down from the high table and marched the length of the hall with a determined look on her face, Professor Flitwick on her heels, until they reached the doors and the great scrum of students.

“Out of the way, please. Move aside, there. Please, go back to your tables…”

They slowly pressed their way through the densely-packed crowd and were quickly lost from view.

“That would be mine,” a deep, carrying voice boomed from the Entrance Hall, and a sudden, excited murmur swept through the school.

“_Dumbledore!”_

“_It’s Dumbledore!”_

“_Where has he _been?_”_

Despite herself, Michelle found herself half-standing, craning her neck as if it would help her to hear better, and around her, many of those that had remained in their seats initially were doing the same. There was no point in joining the tightly-packed crush by the doors, but there was the sudden hope that the Headmaster could somehow put everything to rights. Self-consciously, she slumped back into her seat, but it was impossible to pretend she wasn’t listening in.

“-happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?” she heard Dumbledore say.

There was a brief, pregnant pause, and then a shocked murmur ran around the students, growing louder and louder. She found herself standing again, like nearly everyone else, and thought she heard what sounded like _hooves?_

“This is Firenze. I think you’ll find him suitable,” Dumbledore announced happily. She almost didn’t hear him over the susurrus of voices.

_Centaur! _

_He’s a centaur!_

_By the stars, has Dumbledore lost his mind?!_

_Ooh, he’s _gorgeous_! Look!_

She dragged her eyes away to look at Ravi and Mike, who were looking at her, just as stunned. Meanwhile, Umbridge’s voice climbed to the upper registers of outrage.

“_What is the meaning of… You can’t bring that, that… _that _in here to teach children!”_ she all but screamed.

“Oh, Firenze is perfectly well-qualified, Professor Umbridge,” Dumbledore said calmly. “After all, his clan have been reading the signs and portents of the future since time out of mind, and he is perfectly adept. This way, Professor Firenze, and I’ll show you to the quarters Hogwarts has prepared for you. Good evening, Professor Umbridge.”

It started as a snicker. Ravi was looking down at the table, and a little tickle of amusement escaped his lips, but quickly his shoulders began to heave and his laughter grew louder until he threw back his head and roared with almost-hysterical laughter, tears rolling down his cheeks as he pounded on the table. Perhaps it was disdain for Umbridge’s bigotry, perhaps it was admiration at the way the ground had been cut from under her as she gloated, perhaps it was disbelief at Professor Dumbledore’s sheer audacity, but it quickly spread until the laughter echoed from the ceiling. Michelle could only listen and try to quell the churning anxiety in her guts. Umbridge would be out to avenge such a humiliation, and she would take it out on them. _And what about Professor Trelawney?_

A hand touched her arm, making her jump. It was Evan, of course, a look on his face that needed no translating. _Are you all right?_

She summoned a brief smile. _I’ll be fine. I just don’t like this._

He looked steadily at her, then gave her a small nod that made her swallow. _I’ll be there if you need me_.

The dense crush in the doorway was starting to disperse, with students either going back to their tables or into the castle and towards their common rooms, still talking excitedly over the top of each other. Michelle’s appetite had vanished, and she and the rest of the seventh-years made their way back to the Hufflepuff common room. There was no avoiding the biggest topic of conversation all around them, with endless speculation about Professor Trelawney’s downfall and future prospects. Likewise, as they took up their usual seats by the fireplace, it was impossible to miss the impression that the new Professor had made, with his thickly-muscled torso, pale-gold body, and white-blonde hair and tail and his intensely-blue eyes. And, judging by the gleeful commentary and giggling going on around them in the common room, other attributes had also caught their eyes.

“-Can you imagine, though, you’re in Divination, sitting at your table?” Susan Bones was saying, from within a tight huddle of fourth- and fifth-year girls.

“Yeah, and he rolls up to you and it’s _right there_ at eye level!” said Leanne, gesturing with her hands.

Michelle felt her cheeks burn. _Surely they’re not talking about what I think they’re talking about?_

“Merlin, I wouldn’t know _where _to look!” Hannah giggled.

“I could make you a few suggestions, if you like!” choked Susan, and they collapsed into giggles again.

Mike rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Ladies of Hufflepuff, if I can just have yer attention for a wee moment? Can we get all the ‘hung like a horse’ comments out of the way now? ‘Cause that’s going to wear very thin, quite quickly, I should think!”

There was a chorus of boos, and a cushion sailed across the room and bounced off his shoulder.

“Feeling inadequate, McManus?” someone shouted.

Mike ignored the laughter, bowed left and right to his audience, and sat down again.

“You are no fun at all, has anyone ever told you that?” Tammy said, with a giggle.

“It’s not his fault if he feels threatened. I mean, wouldn’t you, if you were hung like a baby carrot and a pair of peas?” said Becky teasingly.

The girls laughed, but Maxi was unimpressed “Ha! He’s got nothin’ to fret about, it’s more like a baby’s arm holding an apple!” she snorted.

There were shrieks of laughter from the girls, but Michelle couldn’t restrain a “Gross!” before joining in.

“I really could have done without hearing that, Maxi,” said Chris, caught between repulsion and laughing his head off.

“Look, can we put peoples’ willies to one side for a moment?” Mike said impatiently.

“Yes, but with tweezers or a forklift, that’s the question,” said Becky, waggling her eyebrows to another roar of laughter.

“Oh, fer cryin’ out loud!”

They were spared things spiralling even further down into the gutter by the entrance of Professor Sprout, who was looking tired and frazzled and a bit exasperated. “Good evening, everyone! Can I have your attention for a few moments, please?”

Silence quickly swept around the room.

“I just want to talk to you all about Prof… about Miss…,” She blew out a short, sharp breath and corrected herself again, “-about Professor Trelawney. Obviously, she is very distressed by this evening’s events. I know many people will be curious, but please allow her the time and space to come to terms with such a… sudden… change. She will be remaining in her quarters in the North Tower until further notice. Obviously, she will not be teaching any classes, and her usual classroom is difficult for Professor Firenze. Accordingly, Divination classes will be moved to Classroom 11, on the ground floor. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

Michelle looked around, and saw many others doing the same, but no one was willing to speak. _And I know everyone’s thinking it_.

“Very well. If anyone thinks of anything later, or would like to speak to me, I will, of course, be available in my office or after class. Good night, all.”

She went out, leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air.

_Who’s next?_


	18. Scuffling

The natural curiosity of Hogwarts students was not easily satisfied once piqued, and the new Divination professor was discussed and debated intensely. The seventh-years had one of the first classes with him, and so Ravi found himself the centre of attention in the common room as soon as it was over.

“So, how was it?” Leah demanded, taking a chair opposite him almost before he sat down himself.

He looked around the growing crowd of his housemates but rather than joke about it, he was unusually serious. “It was… OK, I guess?” He shook his head and tried to explain. “The new classroom’s been charmed so it looks like a forest clearing. I dunno who did it, it’s probably Dumbledore trying to make him feel at home, but it’s seriously impressive. Anyway, it makes a big change from the airless fug up in Trelawney’s class.”

“Never mind the architecture, what about Firenze? What about the lessons?”

“His approach is very different to anything we’ve been taught before. He dismissed all Trelawney’s usual cards and crystal balls and all that as a load of fairground fakery - and he’s largely right, of course. The centaurs’ view of the world and especially divining is very different to ours. It was fascinating, but I spoke to him after class. That’s all very well and good, but we’re going to be tested on the standard curriculum in our N.E.W.T.s, so we need to at least touch on that stuff so that we can pass our exams.”

“And what did he say?” Ellie asked breathlessly.

“He looked at me like I was some sort of weird specimen and said, ‘The true test is life. There are no marks, there are no exams, only truth, only wisdom. What matters the Ministry’s tests?’ Which is really cool and everything, but I don’t think it’s going to fly when I have to explain to my parents why I got a ‘D’.”

“So what are you going to do?”

He shrugged, “What you always do in Divination. When in doubt, make it up.”

The fifth-years got their own class with the new Professor the next day. The seventh-years were clustered together at their usual desks in the common room, and Evan, Tammy, Mike, and Maxi were about to head out for Quidditch practice, when they clattered in, still arguing loudly.

“What’s all the fuss?” Mike demanded, a little grouchily.

Susan sighed in exasperation, and ran her hands through her long, red hair, “Oh, Merlin’s baggy Y-fronts, Dean Thomas is an absolute cretin!”

“What’s he done?” Tammy asked curiously. Heads came up all around them, too, as others began to listen in to the show.

“Do you know what he asked Professor Firenze in class today? He sat there, and he said, ‘Did Hagrid breed you like the thestrals?’”

There was a brief, incredulous silence.

“What the-”

“You’re kidding!”

“You are, of course, taking the piss!”

“No, I swear! And Firenze just _looked _at him like, ‘Are you actually serious?’.”

“Well… Dean is a Muggleborn, isn’t he?” Michelle said tentatively.

“What’s that got to do with it?” Roger Stebbins demanded angrily from nearby, and she shrank back in her seat.

“Well… you know. He’s probably not familiar with centaurs and maybe he-”

“Oh, come off it, that’s not an excuse! I mean, you’ve got a sapient creature standing in front of you as your teacher, and you ask if he was bred up like some pet?!”

“Yeah, and who _is_ familiar with centaurs?” Tammy said, eyeing Michelle with disbelief. “Most wizards don’t know much more than they exist, but they’ve got the sense not to assume they’re some sort of weird reason for the Ban on Experimental Breeding!”

She wriggled uncomfortably, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I just meant that Dean’s not supposed to be a bad guy, really, and-”

“Oh, well, that makes it all right then!”

“I didn’t say that! Oh… oh, forget it.”

Maxi came to her rescue. “I think she means that the mouth was probably moving before he engaged the brain, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, I get more than enough crap about being Muggleborn from the likes of Vaisey and Urquhart, I don’t need my own House starting with that, as well!” Roger growled, his brows lowered angrily.

“You know she didn’t mean that, Roger,” said Leah, putting a restraining hand on his arm. He grunted in acknowledgement, but said nothing. “I take it Thomas did apologise, didn’t he?”

“Kind of,” said Susan. “You know, in that sort of way when you realise you’ve just dropped an absolute clanger and the best thing you can do is stop talking?”

“Yeah,” Michelle whispered, getting a small, reluctant smile out of Roger at last.

“I saw him talking to the Professor afterwards, too, so I think so,” Hannah Abbott added.

“Well, if he’s done that then the Professor can deal with it,” said Mike, with a glance at his watch. “Come on, we ought to be going. Huh, I bet Hagrid probably would, though, given half a chance,” Michelle heard him say, as the team headed for the barrels.

“No, he would not,” Evan said coolly. “Hagrid’s got far too much respect for the centaurs, and far too much sense, besides.”

“The Blast-Ended Skrewts say ‘Hi’,” Mike replied sarcastically, getting a few laughs before the barrels swung shut behind them.

Michelle took that as an opportunity to slink away to her dorm and hope no one would notice her go - and maybe they’d forget that she’d been there in the first place.

Later, she ventured out in time to meet up with Evan on his way up to dinner, freshly showered after Quidditch. They let the others go on ahead of them and took their time getting to the Great Hall. Evan found a seat on the end of the Hufflepuff table, away from their friends, and let her take the seat beside him on the very end. She felt a rush of thankfulness that he was there and understood how she was feeling without making a big thing of it. _Like always_. But instead of talk about that, they talked about Quidditch, and passed each other potatoes and sausages and broad beans, and talked to the rather overawed first years who seemed confused at having their elders in their midst.

After dinner, rather than go back to the common room, they found themselves taking a walk on their usual route around the castle.

“Are you all right?” Evan asked her quietly, strolling along the third-floor corridor. “You were looking a bit upset by that thing about Dean Thomas, earlier.”

“Yeah. Just, y’know, I wish I hadn’t said anything.”

He shrugged, “I think I got what you meant, but yeah. It kinda came across wrong.”

“It was just that he probably didn’t mean it like that, ‘cause I don’t think he’s that sort of person, but he probably just doesn’t know much about centaurs except they’ve got links to Hagrid and didn’t think before he said it. Yeah , it was a stupid thing to say, but people seemed to be assuming it was malicious rather than just a silly mistake.”

“Roger probably was on a bit of a short fuse, but he’s right in that there’s too much of this crap floating around from the Slytherins about how Muggleborns don’t deserve to be here and don’t know anything, and all that.”

“I know. And I really didn’t mean to sound like that.”

Evan let out a short, thoughtful sigh. “I hate that we all seem to end up arguing at the moment. Everyone’s stressed, and school feels like it’s spinning further and further out of control, so I suppose it’s not a huge surprise that tempers are a bit short.”

“Yeah. I know I keep wondering who's going to be next, now that Professor Trelawney’s got the heave-ho.”

“Hagrid, probably. Umbridge will be happy now that she’s ruined someone’s life, and I think she’ll give it a while before starting on her next victim. Anything to make people squirm. There’s not many people I’d say I actively hate, but she’s definitely forced her way onto the list.”

“I keep coming back to what Roger Davies was saying after Christmas. Where the heck is Professor Dumbledore in all this? I mean, I get that Umbridge has the Ministry on her side, but if he can swoop down and just drop a new Professor in to replace Trelawney, why isn’t he doing more? Why isn’t he stopping some of the other nonsense she’s been getting up to?”

“I know what you mean. He’s always run this place with a pretty light rein, though. You’d like to think he’s doing as much as he can, because he’s _Professor Dumbledore_, right? But I don’t know. I don’t know, anymore. More and more, I’m thinking the only people we can rely on right now are each other.”

Michelle felt a shiver at that, and walked a little closer to her best friend on the way back to the common room.

* * * * *

Hopes of a meaningful intervention from Professor Dumbledore quickly subsided again when he quietly slipped into the background once more. As much as Umbridge may have spluttered, she seemingly could not overturn Firenze’s appointment, and the centaur quickly became a regular and accepted part of school life, for all that he was not social outside of class and did not take his meals in the Great Hall with the others. Professor Trelawney, on the other hand, disappeared from view almost entirely. According to the school rumour mill, she had barricaded herself in her quarters and did not emerge except for random expeditions, late at night and often considerably the worse for drink.

The tensions between Slytherin and the other houses continued as March ground slowly to its end. The scuffles and cursings continued every few days, and it wasn’t just the Slytherins that were the source of the friction. On the way to Transfiguration one morning, the Hufflepuff prefects were flagged down by a harassed Megan Beckton, who was trying to keep two Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw boys at arm’s length while their respective housemates faced off, as well.

“Hey, Mike, Maxi! Come over here, will you?!”

Mike and Maxi, who had been talking to Evan, exchanged a look and changed course to meet her. Feeling that he ought to back the two prefects up, Evan followed.

“What’s up, Megs?” Mike asked.

“I think this one belongs to you,” she said, as the Hufflepuff gagged and threw up a huge, slimy slug. Evan couldn’t resist a shiver of distaste at the loud splatter it made, and there were a few disgusted noises from the watching crowd, too. Even the Ravenclaw kid looked at least a little sympathetic.

“If I see a wand in any of yer’s hands, I’ll not be taking names, I’ll just kick yer arse instead,” Maxi said in a carrying, no-nonsense tone, her own wand clutched casually by her side. The Hufflepuffs shifted uncomfortably, and a few hands came out of pockets before she turned her glare on the Ravenclaws to similar effect.

“What happened, then, Kevin?” Mike asked in a quieter tone, putting a hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“He bloody hexed me,” he groaned, still glaring furiously at the Ravenclaw, but before he could say anything more, he puked up another slug. Evan pulled out his wand and quietly vanished it and the slime, while Megs tried to cancel the hex.

“_Finite!_ And you really think Harvey, here, did that, do you?”

Shuddering, Kevin wiped his mouth with his slime-slicked sleeve. “He laughed,” he muttered sullenly.

“That’s it? That’s what you attacked me for?” the Ravenclaw, Harvey, burst out, his lip curling. “God, you really are as stupid-”

Kevin balled his fists and tried to wrench himself out of Mike’s grip, “You stuck-up little-!”

“Oi! Stop it!” Mike grabbed hold of him by the shoulders, and gave him a shake to show he wasn’t messing around. “Did ya see him do it?” he demanded fiercely.

“I bloody bet-”

“I don’t care, did ya see it?” Mike barked.

There was a brief silence. “No,” Kevin admitted sullenly.

“Right. An’ you-” Mike started, only for Kevin to gag several times and cough up another massive, grey slug, splattering messily on impact with the stone floor.

Evan quickly vanished it, and added his own counter-spell. “_Finite Incantatum!_”

Mike blew out a breath and continued. “Harvey, then. Well? Did ya hex him?”

“Of course I bloody didn’t!” the kid snorted.

Mike fixed him with a fearsome glare until Harvey dropped his eyes. “Do _not_ give me any cheek. Understand?”

Harvey squirmed, but didn’t apologise. After a pointed moment, Mike continued, has intense, dark eyes darting amongst the rest of them.

“An’ the rest of yers. Anyone?”

By now the youngsters were all looking uncomfortable, and none of them spoke up barring a mumbled, “Wasn’t us,” from one of the Ravenclaws.

“What a surprise. That’s ‘cause it wasn’t. I know that, you know that, an’ I bet these two do, an’ all. I know yers are all hacked off, but don’t start on each other, right? Stick together. It’s the only way. Now, what do yers have next?”

“Err. History,” said one of the Ravenclaw girls tentatively.

“Megs, Maxi, yer’ll take ‘em?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll try ter explain ter ol’ Binns, fer all the good it’ll do,” said Maxi.

“Right, then, you lot are going with ‘em,” Mike said to the Hufflepuffs. “If ya give them any crap, Maxi’ll hex ya.” He turned to the Ravenclaws. “As for you lot, behave yerselves, or Megan’ll make this look like a tea party. Understand?”

Kevin let out a rather sluggy belch, although thankfully nothing further came up, and Mike patted him on the shoulders. “Evan, you take this one to the Hospital Wing, see if there’s anything the Matron can do for him.”

“All right. What about you?”

“I’ll see Professor McGonagall, and then I think I need to have a wee word with Professor Sprout. This is gettin’ silly, an’ it’s got to stop before someone gets proper hurt.”

“Well, good luck. Come on, Kevin.”

Megs and Maxi began shepherding their charges along, but Laura Madley stepped tentatively out of the group.

“Um… can I, uh…,” she stuttered, wringing her hands awkwardly.

_Ah. It’s her again_. Evan shrugged, “If you really want. Let’s go.”

Kevin’s face crumpled in humiliation, and he glared at the ground, muttering angrily, “I don’t want…! It’s not-”

Evan tried to hide a smile, and steered him towards the Great Stairs. “I think you need a friend right now, quite honestly. And Kevin, let me give you a little word of advice. Any girl that’s prepared to come anywhere _near_ you in your current state is definitely a keeper.”

Laura went a phenomenal shade of red, but she didn’t stray from Kevin’s side, and he couldn’t decide if it was that or the poor kid barfing up another slug that made his point for him.

* * * * *

The sign-up sheet to stay at Hogwarts over the Easter holidays went up the weekend before Good Friday, and it quickly filled up with the fifth- and seventh-years. The sixth-years were split roughly equally between staying at school and heading home for the two-week break, and most of the younger students would be heading home. Michelle would have loved a break from school and Slytherins and especially Umbridge, but with N.E.W.T.s so terrifyingly close, every moment was going to be needed for studying and preparation.

Late on Monday night, when they were all deep in their homework in the common room, the door burst open and a torrent of Hufflepuffs galloped in and stopped, hands on knees and leaning on each other while they sucked in deep, gulping breaths. There was a brief silence, followed by a growing, curious rumble of voices.

“What’s happened?” Roger Stebbins asked, half-getting to his feet.

“Run all the way here. From the fifth floor,” Ernie gasped. “You know, uh-”

“That thing the twins were organising, yeah? Maxi asked ominously, and Michelle felt a swoop of anxiety in her stomach. _Oh, this is going to be bad_.

“Exactly. Someone ratted us out. Umbridge found us. So we all had to make a run for it. I think we all got away all right.”

“She’s coming after you?” Leah asked quickly, looking around in panic.

“I bloody hope not!”

“Get yourselves in your dorms, now!” Evan ordered loudly, making Michelle jump. “Get someone in the shower, another one wet their hair, the rest into pyjamas, that sort of thing! You lot have been here all night and you’re on your way to bed, now make it look that way before someone checks up on you!”

They didn’t stop to argue, but staggered as fast as they could for their dorms. Michelle blew out a rather shaky breath, and Tammy swore.

“I guess it was bound to happen eventually. I hope the rest of them got away all right, too.”

Evan chewed his lip, “That depends on what Umbridge knows, what she saw, and what she can prove. They may just be all right.”

Leah and Becky asked the question they were all thinking together. “So what do we do?”

“For now? Nothing. We sit tight and wait for morning like good little students, because no-one’s been out of the dorm since dinner, and we’ve got no reason to go poking around because we don’t know that anything’s happened.”

“Good point,” said Becky, then swore under her breath herself. “I hate this.”

Gradually, the common room subsided into its previous, quiet state, although there were many worried, furtive glances exchanged between friends and no-one seemed able to concentrate for long. The premonitions of impending disaster were impossible to shake off.

“If Rascal was here, I could send him up to Gryffindor Tower with a note,” Michelle whispered to Evan. “Then at least we’d know what’s going on.”

He gave her a brief smile. “He’s probably just perked up in the Owlery right now and is about to fly down for you. But Umbridge is reading owl post, and I wouldn’t want him to get hurt, or anything. We’ll find out tomorrow, we just have to be patient.”

Those premonitions became reality the next morning when they found black-bordered posters plastered across noticeboards all through the school.

** — BY ORDER OF —**

** THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**

_ Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as _

_ Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_ The above is in accordance with_

_ **Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight** _ _._

_ Cornelius Oswald Fudge_

_ MINISTER FOR MAGIC_

_01 April, 1996_

Michelle simply stood motionless in front of the noticeboard in the common room and stared at it in disbelief, feeling sick and strangely panicky.

Finally, Ravi turned away and shook his head in disgust. “By Merlin, that had better be a late April Fool’s joke!” he said, with a shudder.

“I don’t think anyone’s laughing - do you?” Tammy said darkly.

“Only the bloody Slytherins.”

The common room was rapidly filling up, and the three Hufflepuffs went up to the Great Hall for breakfast more to get out of the way than to address any burning hunger pangs. They found Mike and Maxi already at the table and went to join them. Around them, the Hogwarts grapevine was in full flow, and the Hall was full of a susurrus of low, anxious voices.

“Morning. Ya must have seen, then?” Maxi greeted them. It was a statement more than a question.

Mike grunted, and dug into his cereal. “I always said it was gonna blow up in their faces when Umbridge found out, but this? This is on a whole different level.”

“Surely you’re not blaming them?” said Ravi.

“No, of course not, but if this is really what’s precipitated Dumbledore being sacked, then it’s a bloody tragedy.”

Ravi looked pointedly at the party atmosphere on the Slytherin table. “Not everyone seems to think so.”

Maxi looked back over her shoulder at them with supreme disgust. “Bastards.”

Eating didn’t seem possible with such news, but Michelle forced herself to take a sausage and a fried egg, anyway.

“So what the hell happened?” Tammy demanded, once she’d assembled her bacon sandwich.

Maxi hunched forwards over her plate and explained in a low voice, “Apparently Umbridge turned up with Fudge and a couple of Aurors. Depending on who you ask, she was either gonna toss him out - or have him arrested!”

“Arrested? What the hell for?”

“They didn’t, did they?” Michelle added anxiously.

“Of course not! They say Dumbledore just vanished before they could lay a hand on him.”

“Who’s they?”

She shrugged. “People. The rumour is that Potter and Marietta Edgecombe were actually there in his office when it happened.”

“Why? And what would Potter be doing with Edgecombe?”

“Oh God, he‘s not been carrying on with his girlfriend’s best mate, has he?” Tammy said, trying to hold in some cynical laughter.

“Who knows?” Maxi snickered, “Harry Potter, the hidden Hogwarts love machine! Ya have ter keep an eye on the quiet ones!”

Ravi turned to look up and down the Gryffindor table. “Where is he? And have you seen Fred and George at all?”

Maxi’s grin vanished. “No. An’ no idea about Potter, but Sunita was tellin’ Vinu that Marietta’s up in the hospital wing. She wouldn’t say why.”

Michelle was surprised to find that she’d demolished her breakfast despite her anxiety, and reached for another egg and a scoop of baked beans. “Maybe she’s just hiding out until everything dies down?” she suggested. “With Potter, perhaps?”

“Well, Dumbledore wouldn’t have hurt her, we know that,” said Ravi.

“Yeah, but bloody Umbridge might have,” Mike said darkly.

“In front of Fudge and the Aurors?”

“You’re assuming they were even there, you know what these stories tend to be like.”

Michelle tuned them out, absent-mindedly buttering some toast and slathering on raspberry jam. In a way, the whys and wherefores no longer mattered. Dumbledore was _gone_, with all that entailed. Umbridge had won, and, as unthinkable as it was, the school would be remade in her image. _Two months. It’s only two more months. I can do that, can’t I? I’m going to have to._

* * * * *

In a way, it seemed absolutely ridiculous to be walking out to class like nothing had changed. It was a bit like the first day at school all over again, meeting up in the common room and setting out to Transfiguration as a unit. There was a marked reluctance to see Chris and Ravi head off on their own, but the others made their way up to the Transfiguration classroom in a bunch, anxiously fingering their wands and keeping their eyes peeled. In the event, they were untroubled and the class proceeded relatively normally, barring the unexplained absence of a number of the Slytherins. Professor McGonagall’s manner was practically dripping suppressed fire, and when they partnered off for the practical part of the lesson, it was clear that Michelle was finding it difficult to concentrate on her work and make her fingers do what they were supposed to without the nervous shakes.

They were heading down to the common room at morning break to exchange books and folders for their next classes when they ran into Montague standing in the corridor in front of a pair of Hufflepuff fourth-years with his arms folded and a self-satisfied smirk on his face while they protested angrily.

“-going to argue with me, I’ll make it another twenty,” he was saying.

“What’s going on, Belinda?” asked Evan, stepping between them and Montague.

“He’s trying to take House points off us, over nothing!”

“I’m not trying, you little brat, I _am_. And I’ll make it ten more. Maybe you’ll learn your place and keep your mouth shut.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, ya can’t take House points!” said Mike incredulously. “Not even the prefects can do that - and yer not a prefect.”

Montague smiled. “No, but I _am_ a member of the Inquisitorial Squad. And we can do just that. So I’ll have another twenty points off _you_ for being an interfering, prissy, stuck-up wanker, McManus.”

Mike and Maxi exchanged a look, and Maxi slowly folded her arms. “Oh, it’s like that is it?” she said coldly, her eyes burning.

“So you’re picking on fourth-years now, Montague? Merlin, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Becky spat angrily.

“Oh, run along, little girl, this doesn’t concern you.”

“_Little girl_?” Becky growled, bunching her fists and leaning forward. “Oh, maybe I didn’t make myself clear, you _pathetic, dung-breathed, arrogant, slimy, inbred, immature, petty-minded-”_

“Becky!” said Tammy, grabbing hold of her arm to stop her drawing her wand. Montague was actually looking quite taken aback as Becky continued to rant.

“_-inadequate, limp-dicked, festering cocksplat!_”

“Come on, let’s just go,” said Evan, shaking his head.

“_How’re we doing so far, huh? If you arseholes are going to act like this, I might as well get my money’s worth. Go on, I bloody-well _dare_ you_-”

Tammy and Maxi took a firm grip on her arms and pulled her along, and the others ushered the fourth-years along in front of them, too, until they turned the corner and Becky let out a final, heartfelt growl of, “Wankers!”

“Who? Montague, or Umbridge, because this has got the stench of her grubby little mitts all over it,” said Tammy sourly. “Are you guys all right?” she asked the youngsters.

“Yeah,” muttered Belinda sullenly. “I still can’t believe we lost points for walking along the damn corridor.”

“Look, try not to worry about it,” said Evan. “If this is going to be a thing now, with these idiots able to take points, then the whole idea of House points has just become irrelevant. They’re looking for a way to wind you up, and if that's the best they can do, it really is pathetic. Just try to remember that the points don’t matter.”

“It just really pisses me off, that’s all.”

“Yer not the only one, lassie,” said Maxi darkly. “Evan’s right, though. An’ if the likes of Montague and his chums are giving yer any grief, ya come an’ find me and Mike, or the other prefects, yeah? Let us deal with it.” She glanced at her watch, and muttered a rude word. “Come on, now, or we’re going ter be late.”

They hurried back to their dorms and found Chris and Ravi waiting impatiently in the common room.

“Where did you lot get to?” demanded Ravi. “Come on, get a wriggle on!”

“Yeah, we know! Give us a second,” said Tammy, jogging for her dorm.

Evan dumped his bag out on his bed and quickly rammed everything in for Care of Magical Creatures, and when he got back to the common room, Mike was already explaining what had happened, to Chris and Ravi’s obvious disbelief.

“Well. All I can say is that I certainly did _not_ expect the Hogwarts Inquisition,” Chris said at last.

“I sort of did. I knew Umbridge would come up with something,” said Ravi, as they others jogged out from their dorms. “Anyway, let’s go. You guys have got Ancient Runes, right?”

“Yeah,” said Tammy. “Divination?”

“Yep. See you guys at lunch.”

They went their separate ways, and Evan hurried down to Hagrid’s hut. The huge man was sporting yet another gruesome-looking black eye, but Evan had learned not to ask. Hagrid would just pretend that everything was fine and change the subject. It was difficult to think what could be big enough and mean enough to take on the genial half-giant, but it was clearly dangerous - and that usually meant that Hagrid adored it. Whatever it was, Evan could only hope he wasn’t planning on wheeling it out for their classes.

In the event, he survived unmauled to return to the Great Hall for lunch. He found his usual spot next to Michelle, who was lost in her own thoughts, chewing on her lower lip and staring into space, and he felt the familiar rush of… well, and of concern for her. Gently, he touched her arm, an eyebrow raised slightly. She blinked a few times, then gave him a small, reassuring smile and leaned briefly against his shoulder. He swallowed, and reached for the soup.

A few minutes later, Ravi hurried in and dropped into a seat next to Tammy. “Bloody hell, have you heard about Marietta Edgecombe?” he said, without preamble.

“What about her?” said Tammy. “Someone was saying she knows about Dumbledore, supposedly she and Potter were up there when the Minister arrived.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t come to class today, and none of the Ravenclaw girls would say where she was. Finally, I got Vinu to tell me that she’s hiding up in the Hospital Wing with the most horrendous acne.”

“Well, that’s no good, but it’s hardly the end of the world. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will sort her out.”

“You haven’t heard what it says yet,” he said bleakly. “It says SNEAK, right across her face.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Becky burst out, “It was _her_?”

“A bit of bloody acne’s the least she deserves, then!” snorted Maxi.

“You haven’t seen it. From what Vinu was saying, it may as well have been carved into her cheeks with a knife, and Madam Pomfrey can’t lift it.”

“Is it permanent?” Michelle asked tentatively.

“It looks like it bloody well might be.”

“How the hell did that happen?” Maxi demanded.

“I dunno how much you know about things, but it was Granger, Potter’s mate. She got everyone to sign something promising to keep the secret.”

“Magical contracts can be dangerous things,” Evan said thoughtfully. “Did she say what would happen if someone told?”

“No. She must be able to lift it, though.”

“Probably, although it depends on how it was done.”

“Anyway, she says she can’t, because Umbridge has the contract - and she won’t.”

Mike shook his head, “_Won’t?_ Man, that’s cold! What a bloody mess!”

“Then she shouldn’t have said anything!” Maxi said heatedly.

“Umbridge was threatening her mum, though,” Ravi explained. “And Vinu said Marietta’s mum’s been on at her all year about making nice with Umbridge, too. I dunno why she singled Marietta out, but somehow she must have connected her to whatever was going on and started putting pressure on her. Either she told, or Umbridge would use her influence with Fudge to make sure that her mum got fired.”

“Fantastic. She still got Dumbledore fired and bloody Umbridge in his place,” Becky said sulkily. “The cowardly bitch!”

“No, Dumbledore got Dumbledore fired! He’s old enough and clever enough not to have ended up in this situation.”

“What should he have done, then? Stormed into Fudge’s office with his wand glowing and demanded that he get rid of her? He’d have been locked up!”

“I don’t know! _Something_!”

“Well, what about the twins? If you’re going to blame Marietta for Dumbledore getting the chop, why not pin it on the twins, as well? They were the ones who came up with the whole idea, and they knew Umbridge would go off the deep end if she found out!”

“All right, guys, let’s calm it down a little, shall we?” said Evan. “That’s a good point, though, has anyone seen Fred and George today?”

Becky glowered, but held her tongue.

“I saw them on the stairs earlier, but I didn’t-”

Mike was interrupted by an enormous explosion that shook the castle, followed by an ear-piercing shriek and a cacophony of smaller bangs. There were loud screams and swearing from deeper in the castle amidst a welter of pops, bangs, hisses, and screeching noises.

Chris coughed politely. “I think the Weasley twins have just been located.”

“What in all seven hells is going on out there?” demanded Mike in wonder, climbing to his feet.

“I’m pretty sure Chris is right - the Weasley twins are going on out there,” Tammy grinned. “Let’s go and see, ‘cos I bet it will be brilliant!”

“How very Hogwarts,” Michelle murmured to Evan as they joined the throng flooding out into the Entrance Hall. “There’s a load of unexplained explosions and screaming, and everyone goes _towards _it.”

He laughed. “You’re right, of course, but I’m still going to see. Come on!”

* * * * *

They finally caught up with Fred and George in the afternoon’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class, lounging at the back of the classroom looking magnificently smug. Umbridge was nowhere to be seen, as she was chasing Catherine wheels and sparklers and massive firework dragons all over the school, desperately trying to extinguish them while the other teachers sat on their hands and sent runners after her with new reports of mayhem from all over the school. All of them contained some form of message begging her assistance as they ‘didn’t have the authority’ to deal with the fireworks themselves. Umbridge co-opted her Inquisitorial Squad and even Mr. Filch to help her, all to no avail while the other students sat back and laughed themselves stupid.

When it was clear that Umbridge would not be returning, they gave up the pretence of studying and went to join the Gryffindors.

“What the hell did you do?” Mike demanded.

“Who, us?” George said innocently, sporting a huge grin. “Why does everyone automatically think it was us?”

“Experience,” he said firmly. “Anyway, more to the point, have you lot in Gryffindor had any grief off the Slytherins today? They’re calling themselves the ‘Inquisitorial Squad’,” he said with disdain, hooking air quotes around the term.

“Ah, yes, I think we’ve had the pleasure.”

“_Briefly_,” Fred said pointedly. “Who was it in your case?”

“Montague. The prick.”

The twins exchanged a look.

“Ah. Well, let’s just say he won’t be bothering you for a while,” said George.

“Do we want to know why?” Evan asked carefully.

“Ask us no questions, my dear Hufflepuffs-”

“-and we’ll tell you no lies,” finished Fred.

Roger Davies sauntered in at the head of the Ravenclaws, who had all been out in the corridor watching the show.

“You two have outdone yourselves this time,” he said cheerfully.

“We don’t know _what_ you mean,” said Fred.

“Couldn’t even begin to guess,” George added airily.

“I’ll bet. Look, I think we need to have a bit of a chat about this Inquisition nonsense,” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting forward, looking around the whole group to include them in the conversation.

“_Here_?” Maxi asked pointedly.

_It does seem a bit suicidal to be talking about it in Umbridge’s own classroom_, thought Evan.

Roger hesitated, then nodded. “Good point. After class, though, if everyone can make it. The Library?”

“Pince would self-combust,” Angelina noted. “She’s nearly as bad as the students when it comes to exam-time. The usual spot near your tower, I reckon.”

“Everyone? All right, then.”

It turned out to be the most convivial Defence class any of them could remember since Professor Lupin in fifth-year, even if they did have to talk Kenny and the twins out of booby-trapping any of Umbridge’s belongings in her absence. Kenny at least did seem to be mostly joking, although you could never be sure with Fred and George.

Later, after class had finished for the day, they dropped their bags off in their dorms and headed over to Ravenclaw Tower to meet up with the rest of their year in the disused classroom that was their unofficial, inter-house common room. The Ravenclaws had already been joined by the Gryffindors, so there was a general chorus of greetings that left them all looking at each other, waiting to see who was going first. Fittingly for the Head Boy, Roger took the lead.

“Thanks for coming, everyone. I suppose the first order of business is exactly what the hell happened last night with Professor Dumbledore. Fred, George, I’m assuming you’ve got details?”

“Most of them, at least,” George admitted. “It’s a bit of a mess.”

The Gryffindor boys exchanged a look, and Lee Jordan decided to take over. “So, as you probably know, there was a… a secret club for Defence. Wow, it sounds really stupid when you say it that way, doesn’t it?”

“That thing Fred and George mentioned?” Evan asked, ignoring the chuckles.

“Yeah. Well, anyway the idea was to study some actual, practical defence if Umbridge wasn’t going to be teaching anyone anything.”

“Oh, cracking idea,” Becky said sarcastically. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, right? Like maybe _get Professor Dumbledore fired?_”

“Becky! Ease off, will ya?” said Maxi.

“No, no, it’s a fair point. Anyway, we had somewhere she was never going to find us, and it was fine until Marietta Edgecombe tipped Umbridge off about it. We got some advance warning to make a run for it, but Harry got himself captured, and Umbridge found a list with everyone’s names on it. She loathes Harry so much she wasn’t even that interested in anyone else, she just couldn’t wait to haul him up to the Headmaster’s office. She had already got Fudge and a couple of Aurors there and waiting, and started accusing Harry of plotting all sorts until Professor Dumbledore piped up. He claimed it was all him, part of his evil masterplan to overthrow the Ministry with a bunch of schoolkids.”

“If the Ministry can be overthrown with a bunch of schoolkids, it probably deserves to be,” said Karen, with cool disdain.

“Sarcasm aside, why would they believe him, anyway?” Evan asked.

Lee shrugged, “It was what Fudge and Umbridge wanted to believe, of course. They’re both petrified of Dumbledore and, well, it was his name at the top of that list, you see. Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Dumbledore’s Army. Dumbledore’s bloody Army. Yeah, because that’s not going to cause problems _at all_, is it? Let’s write down our secret, illicit club and stick his name at the top. Which unspeakable cretin came up with that?” Mike demanded.

“Our sister,” Fred said coolly.

There was some rather nervous laughter, and Lee continued, “Er… anyway, so Dumbledore took the fall and Umbridge has taken his place. And Harry seems to have gotten away with it, somehow. I think Umbridge is so thrilled at getting rid of Dumbledore that she’s forgotten about him.”

“And as for Marietta, she’s up in the hospital wing, refusing to show her face,” said Megan, with a groan. “Oh Merlin, the sixth-year girls’ dorm is an absolute disaster area, right now! Cho’s on Marietta’s side, of course, Sunita and Helen are calling her a traitor, Pauline's moved into the fifth-year dorm and refuses to come back, and Sandra’s sort of trying to ignore it all and pretend that nothing’s happened. It’s a nightmare!”

“I heard those zits came from some sort of curse on that list they all signed. Something Granger cooked up and didn’t tell anyone,” said Emma Carroll.

The Gryffindors exchanged a long look. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Fred admitted eventually.

“Then she can lift it, can’t she? Because permanently disfiguring someone’s face is a bit bloody extreme, don’t you think?!”

George winced. “She says she can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t? There’s a big difference.”

The atmosphere was getting tense, and Roger jumped in to head things off. “Before we get into that - and we _really_ need to talk about Marietta - I want to talk about this Inquisitorial Squad that’s sprung up. You’ve all run into them by now, I’m sure, they were making very sure to rub everyone’s faces in it, today.”

There was a general grumble of agreement, and Kenny added, “Well, the House Cup was a bit of a bad joke this year anyway, but letting those morons take points is the kiss of death.”

“If that’s the worst they can do, though, it’s surprisingly harmless. I mean, it’s massively annoying and unfair, but otherwise harmless,” Ravi pointed out.

“You mean other than them being Umbridge’s toadies?”

“As long as that _is_ all they can do. This was Day One, remember?” said Alicia, with a cynical smile.

“Oh, thanks for adding to the depression,” Ravi sighed, crossing his arms.

“They seem to be using it to try to get a reaction, so far. If that doesn’t work, I expect they’ll move on to other things,” said Trish. “That’s why we’ve asked everyone here. This isn’t something that just the prefects will be able to deal with, so we’re going to need all of you guys as the senior students to help us out. Talk to your housemates, particularly the younger ones, and try to emphasise that they’re going to need to keep calm and not rise to it if Umbridge’s goons start trying to wind them up and take points.”

“That doesn’t mean they have _carte blanche_ \- if they really are breaking rules, then they’ll be dealt with accordingly, just like always,” Roger added seriously.

“Awww!” the Weasley twins groaned in unison, making everyone laugh.

“Yes, guys, even you!” Roger sighed patiently despite his smile.

“Typical! Just when it was really going to start getting interesting, too,” said Fred.

“You’re not planning anything, are you? N.E.W.T.s are right around the corner, and I’m not going to spend my Easter running around trying to deal with whatever madness you guys conjure up.”

Fred and George exchanged a look. “We don’t care about N.E.W.T.s,” said Fred.

“But we know you guys do,” said George, then shrugged. “I don’t think there’s much likelihood of anything major happening over the Easter break.”

“Got to have an audience for the show, and all that,” said Fred. “Afterwards, though? Afterwards, I’d say things will be getting a little _livelier_ around here.”

“Like this afternoon, you mean?” Roger asked pointedly.

Fred just grinned, “We couldn’t possibly comment.”

“But we could potentially let you know where you can purchase similar items, starting in just a couple of months’ time,” George said helpfully.

“There’ll even be a discount for anyone using them to get rid of the horrendous old bat,” added Fred.

The others laughed, but Roger blew out his cheeks despite his smile. “Great. Smashing. I’ll expect absolute mayhem in the lead up to exams, then.”

“Put it this way, I’ve always wanted to see if it’s possible to get into negative numbers for house points.”

“Getting back on topic, though,” said Trish, “We also want you guys to keep an eye on the younger students between classes, just until Friday when most of the little ones go home. Hopefully, things will settle down over the break.”

“What about later, though?” Evan said reluctantly.

“Let’s see how things lie after the holidays. If it comes to it, we’ll have to organise something for the rest of the year,” Roger said briskly.

“And what about after? I know we won’t still be here, but Umbridge will. We can’t rely on the curse of the Defence teachers - she’s Headmistress now.”

“No she isn’t, she just thinks she is,” George snorted. “Not even the school itself recognises her - it won’t let her into the Headmaster’s office, and I’m told she had a proper tantrum about that.”

“Yeah, she’s just holding it for a while. Dumbledore will sort something out,” said Lee, with easy confidence.

“You mean like he sorted this all out over the last six months?” Tammy said, with a grimace. “Sorry, but it looks like Umbridge is in for the long haul.”

“There isn’t a lot we can do about the future, we’re not going to be here,” said Roger. “We’ll have to see what we can pass on to the younger prefects if things don’t change by the end of the year.”

“Bet your boots the next Head Boy and Girl are from Slytherin,” Angelina said darkly.

“Bet your boots they’re from Umbridge’s goon squad,” Vinu corrected her.

“Well, as depressing as that is, there’s not much we can do about it now,” said Trish. “Just have a look at your schedules and try to work out where you can escort the younger years between classes for now. If we need to carry on after the break, we’ll probably have to work out something more formal.”

Roger turned to Becky with his most ingratiating smile, “Rebecca, darling, you’ll help us schedule all this, won’t you?”

Becky folded her arms and glared at him. “Call me Rebecca again, and I’ll break your arms.”

The others roared with laughter at her flat, matter-of-fact threat.

“You forgot ‘darling’,” Tammy reminded her helpfully.

“Oh, that’s _completely_ different.” Roger was starting to smile again until she added, “If he calls me darling again, I’ll break his legs, as well!”

“Wow, you Hufflepuffs are so violent.”

“Not going for the face, Becky? How very public-spirited of you!” Tammy said through her laughter.

“Yes, yes, you can still ogle him when he’s wearing casts,” Becky said impatiently, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, Roger! You’re so dreamy!” wailed George, swooning into his brother’s arms. “Hold me, Fred!”

Megs rolled her eyes while Roger laughed and ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly flushed. “Oh, the perils of being beautiful, eh Roger?”

* * * * *

They argued the situation with Marietta Edgecombe back and forth but while they were split on whether she deserved it in the first place, there was general agreement that the point had been made, and Trish promised to take it up with Granger. From the look on her face and the dubious expressions of the other Gryffindors, Michelle didn’t hold out a lot of hope for the unfortunate Ravenclaw.

Later, after a dinner that was regularly interrupted by sparklers and rockets and Catherine wheels, the Hufflepuffs retreated to their common room, but there was little studying done. Instead, they turned the lights low and threw open the windows and watched the fireworks cavorting across the grounds. Most of the action was in the castle behind them, but every now and then a rocket would soar up over the lake, or a fiery dragon would swoop low, trailing sparks. Most of the house was clustered along the windows, all talking and laughing about the day’s events and cheering any particularly inventive insults spelled out by the sparklers. Michelle was between Maxi and Tammy, who were all enjoying the show, but she kept finding herself looking along to the far end where Evan stood quietly, leaning forward with his elbows on the sill. Finally, she excused herself from the others and worked her way along to see him.

“The Ravenclaws must have a smashing view of all this. Don’t you wish we could go up there and see?” she said softly.

He turned to look at her, lifting one eye brow slightly. “I’d get fed up with all those stairs, though. I think the dragons are my favourites - what about you?”

The familiar ache in her chest tugged at her all the harder when he smiled. “They are pretty awesome, you’re right. Nearly as impressive as the real thing.”

He let out a grunt of amusement. “And these ones aren’t trying to eat anyone. Even Umbridge, which is a bit disappointing.”

“As horrible as she is, I know you don’t mean that.” She pursed her lips briefly, then squeezed in beside him, turning to look out across the grounds. “I just want her as far away from here as possible. Maybe obsessing over something pointless like cauldron thickness regulations or something back in the Ministry, just not here.”

“I know what you mean. Well, we can hope, I suppose.”

She let a comfortable silence fall. “You’ve been very quiet tonight. And you’re looking, y’know-”

“Moody?” he said, with a more genuine grin.

She flushed. “I was going to say thoughtful!”

He nudged her shoulder gently in apology. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a wet blanket.” He was quiet for a long time. “I suppose I was wondering how all this was going to play out, wasn’t I?” he said at last.

“And today answers a few questions.”

“Something like that.” He sighed, “I can’t just keep sitting here and saying there’s nothing I can do and just holding on for the end of school, but here I am. I really don’t think there _is_ anything I can do, but I feel like there ought to be.”

She swallowed. “That’s because you’re a good person,” she said very quietly. “And that’s the question, isn’t it? Umbridge is the sort of problem that ought to be dealt with by people older and far more senior than us. But if they don’t, if they aren’t, if they can’t, then what do we do? I don’t have the answer. I don’t think any of us do.”

He said nothing, just looked thoughtfully out across the grounds. She clenched her fist on the sill to stop it trembling and moved over to rest against his shoulder, and together, they resumed watching the flicker of colours splash across the clear night sky.


	19. Missing Man

The next morning, the sparklers and dragons were finally gone but their legacy lived on in the exhausted, furious face of Professor Umbridge. She even managed to fall asleep in her own class once, much to the third-years’ quiet glee. Everywhere, people were talking about the fireworks and laughing over the sheer audacity of the culprits. It was almost enough to lift the pall of gloom left by Professor Dumbledore’s unceremonious departure. In class, they were handing in their final pieces of written homework before Easter. After that, they would be much more focused on revision ahead of exams in June, only a few short weeks away.

Evan ambled back in from Care of Magical Creatures in a buoyant mood, having passed Professor Hagrid not only his completed project report on hippogriffs and porlocks, but also a final draft of the article for _Magizoology Today_. That just left Storm’s development diary to go, and then he would be effectively finished coursework for the year and could then focus more on his other subjects. Perhaps that happy prospect was why he didn’t notice Warrington lurking in the shadows of the Entrance Hall when he cut across towards the stairs to the Hufflepuff common room until a hand seized the front of his shirt and slammed him back against the wall, bouncing the back of his head off the stone with a painful crack

“_Where is he_?!” Warrington snarled. His eyes were burning feverishly and his face was twisted in fury, his forearm across Evan’s throat.

Evan blinked sharply at the pain in the back of his head and he spluttered his confusion while he tried to gather his wits. “What? Where’s who?”

“Don’t mess me about, you prick! What the hell did you do to him?”

“What? Get off me!”

Warrington tried to shove him back into the wall again, but this time Evan was prepared and braced himself. Warrington was strong, but Evan was equal to it and had at least three inches on him, and it was Warrington that moved, not him. A second later, he felt the tip of a wand jammed under his chin.

“Don’t play dumb with me, or I will make you regret it.”

“Regret what? What the hell are you on about? Get a grip, man!”

“_Hey! Get off him!_” bawled a female voice, but Warrington took no notice.

“Graham, that’s what!” he spat viciously. “One of you bastards has done him, and when I find out who, they’ll wish they’d never been born! Now, last chance - _where is he?!_”

A jinx ripped the two of them apart, thumping Evan’s shoulders back into the wall and sending Warrington reeling away from him. Cho Chang from Ravenclaw stood behind them with her wand raised threateningly. “Back off, Warrington!”

Breathing heavily, Evan forced himself to straighten up and look Warrington in the eye. It was quite a force of will not to reach for his own wand. “I have no idea where Montague is,” he said, as calmly as he could. “You can threaten and bluster all you like, but it won’t change that fact.”

Warrington’s hate-filled gaze burned up at him, but after a long moment, he swore viciously and whirled on the spot, storming away towards the Slytherin dungeon.

After he’d gone, Evan let out a pent-up breath and turned to Cho. “Thanks for the help. I wasn’t expecting to get ambushed right in the Entrance Hall, that’s for sure.”

“What was all that about?” she asked, rather wide-eyed as she tucked her wand away.

“Montague. It seems that he’s gone missing, he’s not turned up for any of our classes today.”

“And so Warrington’s gone on the rampage,” said Cho with a shudder. “Are you OK?”

He shrugged, and straightened his shirt. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s good to see someone likes the prick, I suppose.” He took a breath and looked her over carefully. She was neatly turned out and her dark hair fell in a lustrous wave over her shoulders, but the way she held herself was defensive and closed in. “How are you doing, Cho? And are you…?” He gestured towards the Great Hall, but she shook her head.

“Actually, I’ve just seen Professor Sprout, and I was about to head up to the Hospital Wing.”

He gave her a small, kind smile and set off towards the stairs. She looked momentarily surprised, then fell into step beside him. “I guess you’ve been having a tough time over the last few days,” he said quietly.

She looked at him sharply, then looked away, perhaps sensing his sincerity, and her shoulders slumped. “It’s bad enough that Professor Dumbledore got sacked, but everyone’s acting like Marietta’s some sort of evil Judas. She’s a great person really, but she’s been under a lot of pressure from her family, and…” she trailed off miserably.

“And now she’s suffering for it,” Evan said neutrally.

“It’s been awful,” she said in a small voice. “The whole school hates us, none of my friends are talking to me, and Harry’s going to… well, you don’t want to hear about that.”

They stopped at the top of the corridor to the Hospital Wing. “I won’t come in,” Evan murmured. “I doubt she’ll want to see any more people, but I hope Madam Pomfrey sorts her out soon.”

“Thanks, Evan,” Cho said softly, then paused. “Marietta made a huge mistake. She knows that, and she wishes she could take it back, but it’s too late. The pimples are awful, but even without them everyone’s going to remember this. She doesn’t need a scarlet letter to carry around with her, too.”

“I won’t pretend that I’m thrilled with Marietta at the moment, but I know that Umbridge has a knack for putting people under pressure and finding their weak spots. The bottom line is that she’s engineered this whole thing, and I don’t blame Marietta for that. And like you said, she’ll have enough reminders to live with without seeing it in the mirror as well.”

“It’d be nice if a few other people thought that way,” she muttered, scowling at the floor.

That gave him pause. “It may not seem like it, but there’s probably a few more than you think. They just don’t make as much noise as the rest.” He shook his head, “It’s been a tough year, hasn’t it?”

“I keep hoping that things will get easier,” she said plaintively, a tremor in her voice. “I just want things to be _normal _again, you know? But everything ends up going wrong, and I just can’t seem to do anything right.”

He swallowed and half-lifted a hand towards her, then let it fall. _The poor girl sounds like she needs a hug. Where the hell is Potter? He ought to be here helping her, damn it_. “I know it’s not always easy to talk about things, but you’re not alone. If it’s all feeling a bit too much, then Megs or Trish or Professor Flitwick can help. Even me, if you want. And if all else fails, the Friar is always willing to lend an impartial ear and some advice. I know he’s a bit odd, but he genuinely does want to help people, no matter what house they’re in, and he’ll never breathe a word of what you tell him to anyone else.” He paused, thinking back over his choice of words and added, “Well, yes, obviously, but you know what I mean.”

That got him a very wan smile. “Thanks, Evan.” She glanced back at the waiting infirmary doors, “Anyway, I ought to be going. I’ll see you around.”

He watched her slip through the doors, then turned and tried to keep his wits about him on the way back to the common room despite the thoughts whirling in his head.

* * * * *

The final day before Good Friday and the start of the holidays was a festive affair, with the students scenting freedom in the air. Michelle and the girls had a very cheery breakfast, and headed off to class with a bounce in their steps, impatient to get it over with even if, for them, it was the prelude to two weeks of revision rather than relaxation. First, though, the Hufflepuffs were rostered to shepherd their first-, second-, and third-years safely to and from their classes. The presence of the older students in the corridors to back up the prefects seemed to work, and the worst that anyone reported when they all joined back up again in Charms was a few dirty looks.

At break, Jason Samuels from Ravenclaw fell in beside them with a broad smile on his face. “Did you hear? Apparently Montague from Slytherin turned up again last night after dinner.”

“Well, Warrington’s going to be pleased, even if no one else is,” Mike snorted. They had all heard about his run-in with Evan the night before.

“Really? So where was he?” Chris asked.

“Not that I care that much, actually, but yeah,” Maxi added. “He can’t have just vanished for two days.”

“I don’t know, he’s not saying. He was found jammed in a toilet on the fourth floor, gibbering something about the voices.”

There was an outbreak of disbelieving laughter. “Seriously?”

“_Wha-a-a-at?_” Ravi spluttered, “Jammed in a _toilet?”_

Jason shrugged, “That’s what they say.”

“Jammed in a toilet, though? _How?_”

“Do you mean, was he trapped with an arm around the S-bend, or how did he end up there? No idea in either case. Anyway, he’s up in the hospital wing now with no idea where he is, what happened, or anything.”

“Sounds pretty normal for Montague to me,” Maxi said sarcastically.

Jason grimaced uncomfortably. “I know it’s hard to summon too much sympathy for him, but they reckon he really is quite badly messed up.”

“Maybe someone had absolutely blitzed that toilet he was stuck in,” Becky said, with a careless shrug. “There’s always one that doesn’t brush or flush.”

“_Becky!_”

“Something must have happened, though,” said Tammy, trying to get things back on track.

Jason shrugged, “I heard someone say something about apparition, but that’s impossible. Anyway, I need to get a move on, I’m supposed to be up on the sixth floor, right now.”

He hurried off, leaving them to discuss Montague’s strange reappearance.

“You’ve got that look on your face again, Evan, you might as well just get it over with,” said Ravi, eyeing him thoughtfully.

Evan pursed his lips and didn’t answer for a moment. “Do we ask the twins about this? They said the other day that Montague ‘wouldn’t be bothering anyone’ - I’m pretty sure they didn’t mean he’d end up like this, but…”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yer being all responsible again, mate.”

He shrugged, “Someone had to say it.”

_They really didn’t_, thought Michelle. _The twins can be a law unto themselves, but shouldn’t I be more concerned about this, even if he is a bully getting his comeuppance?_

“I can’t see that they’d really hurt someone, though, not like what Jason was implying,” said Ravi.

“Maybe not _on purpose_,” Tammy pointed out. “Anyway, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will sort him out and he’ll be back to his usual, disgusting self soon enough. And who knows, maybe he’ll learn this time.”

“I’d not be holding yer breath, there,” said Maxi archly.

Michelle slipped away from the group when they passed the girls’ loo on the first floor. She heard a latch click open as she stepped inside, and just as she reached the row of cubicles a familiar, hated figure popped out right in front of her. Anastasia Halkett’s pretty face twisted in a characteristic sneer, the silver ‘I’ prominent on her robes.

“Well, well. I don’t know whether I should take points off you for being a half-Mudblood, a near-Squib, or a general disgrace. Maybe I should just call it all three. Thirty points sounds about right.”

“What? Really, Halkett? I-” She felt her hackles rising and forced herself to stop, and then let her breath out slowly, feeling the indignation go with it. “You know what? You do that.”

She turned on her heel, thinking to try her luck somewhere else, but barely had she taken a step towards the door when she heard the first syllable of a hex behind her, and whirled on the spot.

“_Protego! Expelliarmus!_”

For once, she was prepared, her wand in hand. For once, she knew what was coming. For once, she knew what she was going to do - and had practised it, thanks to her friends. And seeing Anastasia Halkett sitting on her backside on the tiled floor, her mouth open in comical shock as her wand flew to Michelle’s hand, made it all worth it a thousand times over.

There was a moment of absolute, perfect silence.

“G-give that back, or you’ll be sorry,” Halkett tried, her voice wavering. “When my friends-”

“Friends?” Michelle repeated incredulously, “What friends? You don’t have any friends. You do know that, don’t you?”

To her absolute astonishment, Halkett actually looked like she was going to cry.

“You mean twats like Bletchley and Malfoy? They only let you tag along in their gang because you’re useful to them, but they don’t care about you, and they never will. You’ve spent your whole time sucking up to those idiots and trying to impress them, and because of that, no-one worth a damn wants anything to do with you. All you had to do was not be a bullying, vindictive, lying bitch, Anastasia! You could have had friends, but you don’t. And you know what? It’s your own damn fault!” Michelle found herself glaring down at her with an uncharacteristic snarl on her face. The other girl’s chin had sunk down onto her chest and she couldn’t even meet her eyes, and Michelle’s sudden anger dissipated in a wave of disgust. “You’re pathetic.”

With that, she dropped Halkett’s wand on the floor, kicked it under one of the cubicle doors, and walked out with her head held high.

The feeling of righteous anger and triumph lasted barely long enough for her to reach the corridor before her legs started to shake, and she needed three goes to tuck her wand away, her breath rattling unsteadily in her throat, _and she still needed to pee!_ Turning quickly, she rushed down the corridor and took the stairs three at a time, bursting into the girls’ loo on the third floor where she could lock herself in a cubicle and just sit on the loo and let the nervous reaction roar through her blood. _Did I really just do that? I mean, how many times have I dreamed about putting Halkett in her place - and then I only go and do it! She looked like she was going to crap herself!_ Her elation faltered. _She looked like she was going to cry. Is that really something I ought to celebrate, even if it is someone I can’t stand?_

It was several minutes before her hands steadied and she could take care of business, straighten up her uniform and smooth down her shirtfront, and check her hair as she washed her hands. _Even if it’s not something to celebrate, at least she’s not going to try bullying me again any time soon, I’m sure of that. And she’s not going to go running off to any of the others for help, either, they’d laugh themselves silly at the thought of her getting beaten by me._

She took a few slow, steadying breaths, and walked out of the loo and on to Herbology. _I don’t think I ought to mention this to anyone else, but I’m not going to forget it, either. They _can_ be beaten._

* * * * *

After the usual chaos of departures on Good Friday morning, the Hufflepuffs took the rest of the day off. Maxi insisted that they all needed a rest - and deserved one, too - and so they took the chance to get outside and enjoy the cold but clear Spring weather. There was no such laxity from the Ravenclaws, who were already setting up camp in the library, but the Gryffindors drifted out in ones and twos to join them. Warming charms were still required, but it was nice to find a sunny spot out of the wind and just chat.

Later that afternoon, Michelle and Evan found themselves on their own by the lake, ducking into the secluded shelter under the willow’s drooping branches. The ground was far too cold to sit on, so they perched side-by-side on the old log, watching the ripple of the lake through the willow’s dancing green streamers.

“All right, Michelle?” Evan asked her gently, his voice making her jump a little in surprise. “You’ve been a bit quiet the last day or two.”

“Oh! Er, yeah, fine. Um.” She scratched the side of her nose nervously, and felt a faint tug of irritation when he smiled at her prevarication. _Yes, yes, you know I’m going to tell you even if I dither like a ninny, don’t you? Ugh, I may as well get it over with then, hadn’t I? _“I had a bit of a run-in with Anastasia Halkett the other day,” she admitted.

He glanced sideways at her. “Ah. Throwing her non-existent weight around and being Inquisitorial, was she?”

She said nothing, staring at her lap. It all seemed rather self-evident.

“So, how many points did she try to have off you?”

“Thirty. Although I’m not sure if she actually did or not.”

He glanced at her again, and this time his gaze lingered as he took a breath to speak, then changed his mind. After a moment to consider, he looked away and changed the subject. “I heard that Marietta-”

“I hexed her.”

“_What?_” He turned back to her in surprise, but she refused to look at him.

“I hexed her. Halkett. Well, sort of, anyway. She tried to hex me from behind, but I beat her to it and took her wand.” She found herself fidgeting with her fingers. “I might have told her a few home truths, as well.”

She risked a look up, and saw him watching her with shock and surprise - and a large helping of admiration that sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. _Oh, don’t look at me like that! But… but, oh yes, look at me like that, please! _The long arm that snaked around her shoulders and squeezed her tight did nothing to bring her heart rate down, either.

“Well done!” he laughed, “She’ll think twice before bothering you again, that’s for sure!”

She mumbled something incoherent, regretting that he let her go.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because…” She took a deep breath and tried to meet his eyes. “Because I just want it to be over. I don’t want to make it a big thing, I just want her to leave me alone.” His grin faded and he watched her carefully. She looked away again, his blue eyes too close, too distracting. “And I said some things I’m not proud of. They’re true, I think, but still. They were pretty mean, and saying them to someone helpless at the end of your wand… it’s not a good feeling.”

“She tried to hex you first, though?”

She nodded.

“Michelle? Michelle.” Gentle fingers touched her chin, just the lightest pressure coaxing her irresistibly to look at him and, her heart thundering, she looked up into a face that was serious, caring, calm. “You did nothing wrong,” he said softly. “Remember that. You’ve done your best to keep away from her all these years - and yes, I know about second year. She’s the one that’s the bully here, not you, and she’s been long overdue to run into someone that bites back. Even better that it was you. If you’d hexed her after you’d disarmed her, well, that might be a little different.”

“I wanted to,” she admitted in a small voice.

“But you didn’t, and no-one can blame you for telling her off after all this time.”

She summoned a small, wan smile, until a thought struck her. “You knew? About what happened in second year?”

“Cedric told me. I mean, it wasn’t like the golden boy to get detention, was it?”

“You never said anything.”

“You didn’t want me to know. And I thought I should respect that.” He gave her a faint smile, “Ced had to talk me out of beating Bletchley to a paste a few times, but that probably wouldn’t have helped matters, either.”

“Probably not.” She sighed, and ran her hands through her hair. “I’m just sick of all this bullying and bad feeling - Umbridge, the Slytherins, everything. If they offered exams next week, I think I’d risk it just so this year can be over with.”

“There’s not long to go now,” he said awkwardly.

“I know. And then there’s you, and our friends, and everyone else. I’m really not ready for _that_ to end, you know? Even although I know it must, too.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

His voice was strangely tight, but she knew that he knew it, too. She shook her head sadly, and changed the subject. “So, what was it you were going to say about Marietta earlier?”

“Hmm? Oh, just that she went back on the train this morning. She’s got an appointment at St. Mungo's, apparently, so hopefully they can sort her out. Although even if they do, according to Emma, they’re not sure if she’ll come back for the last weeks of term.”

“That might be a good thing. It’ll let everything blow over a bit, and then she can start again with seventh-year.”

“I can only hope it’ll be a bit less stressful than this year has been.”

“Yeah. Leah’s saying she’s not going to bother trying out for the Quidditch team next year now that she’s seen what seventh-year looks like. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to cope with Quidditch on top of everything else.”

He smiled, and nudged her shoulder gently, “And I don’t know how you cope with Snape on top of everything else. I guess we both just do what we have to do.”

That made her smile, too. “I’ll miss the class, I won’t miss the teacher, that’s all I can say.”

He shifted his weight and changed the subject. “So, did you write off to Ratchett’s about an apprentice position?”

She made a face, “Not yet. I know, I know, I really need to get something out there and start making contacts.”

“Maybe take a bit of time over Easter to clear your head for it. Does Dervish & Banges make their own stuff, too? You could try them?”

“Yeah. Merlin, it all seems to be coming so fast! I know it isn’t really, but at the start of the year it felt like everything was safely a long way down the line, and now it really is here.”

He smiled at her. “Feeling a bit panicked? Welcome to the club! You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” She needed a deep breath before asking him, “Have you thought any more about what you’re going to do?

Sure enough, she felt him tense and look away from her, his elbows on his knees. “Mum and I need to talk when I get home,” he said at last.

She rested a hand on his back. “I-if you do, though, do you know where you might end up?”

“Vancouver, probably. Mum’s cousins live north of the city. There’s a lot of wildlife programmes run from there throughout western Canada and the Yukon, actually, so I might be able to pick something up work-wise. We’ll see if it happens, first.”

“It really is happening, though,” Michelle whispered. Her voice cracked when she continued, “I hate that everyone’s splitting up.”

He sat up abruptly and turned to her, but she could feel her eyes stinging.

“Michelle-”

She couldn’t look at him. “We are, though, aren't we? Mike and Maxi will be in Ireland, and you, and the others… everyone’s leaving. Everyone’s leaving, and nothing will be the same.”

His arms wrapped around her, and she buried her face in his chest, weirdly angry with herself even if the tears didn’t really fall in earnest, not quite. He didn’t say anything, just held her, stroking her back soothingly. _He knows it, too. He knows it’s true_.

It was a long time before she could draw back from him, muttering, “Sorry.”

A gentle thumb brushed her cheek, his voice warm and amused. “Why do you always apologise for being human?”

Her heart racing, her breath shuddering in her throat at his nearness and the tender smile on his face, she leapt to her feet, facing away from him, and tried to pull herself together. “Because….”

There was a snort of amusement. “Because you’re you. Everyone else is thinking the same sorts of things about the end of school, too, you know,” he added gently.

“I don’t know why I’m having such a tizzy about it now,” she muttered, willing the blood back out of her cheeks. Her chest ached abominably at his voice, caring and sincere, and all that it stirred within her heart.

“Stress. Pressure, time, all those sorts of things. And believe me, everyone’s definitely feeling that too. So if you need to let off a little steam every now and then, it’s fine. You’re not alone, Michelle.”

She took a final, deep, breath and let it out slowly before turning to face him. “Shall we go in? It’s not exactly warm out here.”

He looked searchingly at her for a moment, then levered himself upright, and together, they ducked out from under the willow and fell in, side-by-side.

“Just remember, you’re not allowed to run off and join the Ravenclaws in the library just yet, Maxi would hunt you down,” he told her, as they reached the path back to the castle.

Startled out of her thoughts, she looked up at him and laughed. “What, you’re worried that I’m going to sneak off with Tammy so we can drool over Roger Davies together?”

“As Ravi told her, there’s a bit of a queue. I don’t know how he does it. Maybe he should give lessons.”

That made her giggle, and he raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I just can’t see you as the Casanova type,” she said.

“I’m not sure if I’ve just been insulted.”

“You’re far too sincere to be like Roger.”

“Roger’s sincere!” he protested.

“Yes, about things that _matter_. If he just wants to get his own way he isn't, and that’s why it only works on people who _want _to be flattered.”

“Like Vicky Frobisher, you mean? I think he’s regretting that one!”

“See? He lives a dangerous life.”

Their easy, teasing banter continued back to the castle and, as they stepped into the Entrance Hall, she realised that the doubt and apprehension that had dogged her seemed lighter, a little more bearable. _I’m so lucky you’re around, Evan. Will I really have to do this on my own, when you’re thousands of miles away?_

* * * * *

They tried to structure their revision over the break along the same lines as regular classes, although they focused on Herbology, Charms, and Transfiguration in the mornings, when they could work as a group, splitting up into their electives in the afternoons. None of them bothered studying for Umbridge’s class, although they worked on their ‘Defence homework’ every night in the boys’ dorm, trying to get as much as they could out of _Defeating the Darkness _by Emeritus Bright.

Evan took advantage of the lengthening days to spend the late afternoons with the hippogriffs. Caroline was always pleased to see him, and Storm was quite good about letting him measure wing development and chest size and so on, as long as he played with him first. While it all went into the notebook in the neat, waterproof folio that Michelle had given him, it did feel a little bit like having fun rather than actual work. _Which is the best kind of work, let’s be honest_.

He was walking back up to the castle on the first Thursday of the holidays when Fred and George emerged from the lengthening shadows under Hagrid’s cottage.

“All right, Evan? The hippogriffs haven’t eaten you yet, then?” said Fred.

“No, not quite. I may just get away with it,” he replied, stifling a chuckle. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, y’know, getting some air, that sort of thing.”

“We were just catching up with Hagrid, actually,” said George. “Anyway, we’re glad we caught you, we wanted to have a word.”

Fred’s grin was rather unsettling. “Yes, you see, we were thinking of giving everyone a proper, Hogwarts welcome back after the holidays.”

Evan looked apprehensively from one twin to the other as they fell in on either side of him. “Well, now I’m worried.”

“You know you offered to help us sometime?” George said smoothly. “Well, if you’re still willing, it’d be a terrible tragedy if something, oh, I dunno, just happened to go off on the sixth floor in such a manner that would require our new, highly esteemed Headmistress’ attention at… what do you reckon, Fred?”

“I’d say about five fifteen, George.”

“Give everyone time to get in from the station and head up to their dorms, sort of thing?”

“Sounds alright to me, yeah.”

“There you are, then.”

“The afternoon the Express gets back?” Evan asked.

They nodded.

_I suppose I did offer_. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said reluctantly. “Just how much of a distraction do you need?”

“As big as you like,” said George, with a wide grin.

“As big as you can,” Fred corrected him.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he repeated.

George nodded, pleased. “Just let us know if you can’t. It’s not a big deal, we just need to know in advance, that’s all.”

“Yeah, have to plan these things.”

Later, over dinner, he began to ponder his options. It seemed a waste not to use some of the advanced Charms he was studying. _Maybe with a bit of directed study, I could work out a practical demonstration. And I’ll need someone to watch my back. Someone with a bit of daring that wouldn’t normally be suspected, and can lie like an angel if they have to_. He looked around his group of friends until his eyes alighted on just the right person.

* * * * *

Evan scratched his chin nervously, turning a casual circle. Easter holidays were over and the castle was filling up with students returning from the train, all ambling towards their common rooms and catching up with friends. He checked his watch for what seemed like the millionth time. It was time. He got a thumbs-up from Becky at the end of the corridor, took a deep breath, and began casting the spells.

The suit of armour clanked to attention, then reached out stiffly and took the large vase that Evan had transfigured into bagpipes and stuck the end of the mouthpiece under the bottom of its visor. Quickly, Evan turned and walked briskly away, trying not to look like he was hurrying but still hurrying towards Becky. Behind him, he heard the pipes start to drone as the bag inflated, and he gave up and ran the last thirty feet, skidding to a stop at the end of the corridor, but barely had they turned the corner when a truly deafening sonic assault broke out behind them.

Becky had to scream to make herself heard, “_God almighty, Evan, what the hell did you do?_”

He leaned down so that his mouth was beside her ear, and still had to shout. “_I think I may have overdone the amplification charm!_”

“_Never mind that now, just keep walking!_”

They reached the back stairs, and quickly clattered down them two at a time, falling in with a flock of shocked fourth-years coming back from Gryffindor Tower who had their hands clamped over their ears while the pipes skirled and thundered above them, _Flower Of Scotland _shaking dust from the ceiling. Professor McGonagall’s head popped out of her office, and they couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the meaning was obvious. _What in the name of Merlin is going on, up there? _He shrugged, and Becky held her hands out palm up, and the Professor shook her head and disappeared again. Evan could almost swear there was a smile on her face.

By the time they reached the Grand Staircase, the noise had, incredibly, got even louder. Baffled students were crowding the stairs and landings, all looking up to the sixth floor where the suit of armour had segued into _Will Ye No Come Back Again?_ and was now marching back and forth along the landing in a smartly military fashion. Becky grabbed his arm, steering him through the crowd on the stairs and slowing them both so that they drifted downwards in the midst of the slow, general movement away from the din. Fighting her way upwards was a livid-faced Professor Umbridge. She stopped at random to grab passing students and demand answers, but only got blank looks - and not a few of the younger ones simply looked scared. When she bustled past Evan and Becky, he let out a breath and they picked up the pace, stopping in the huge scrum of students forming at the bottom of the stairs to look up and watch the show.

_The Black Bear_ was roaring out through the castle by the time Umbridge reached the landing where the suit of armour marched its circuit. There was the flash of spell-light, but it made not the slightest difference, and the suit of armour high-stepped implacably back and forth, back and forth, in time with its own music. Umbridge edged closer, but had to jump back to avoid being trampled under its feet. Evan looked around the press of students, and he could see grins and laughter, even if he couldn’t hear them. More spells, but they had no effect, until the tune wound to a halt and there was a brief, almost shocking, moment of silence, before the first notes of _Scotland The Brave_ resumed the aural attack.

Becky elbowed him in the ribs, and he looked over at her. She was looking around her with a huge grin, and he realised that many people were stamping their feet and singing along with the pipes, even if the noise was lost amidst the mighty thunder. Laughing, he joined in.

_Der der da-dat-da-der-der…_

The suit of armour finished the tune marking time right at the balustrade, looking out over the Great Stairs. With the last, deafening note echoing around the castle, it lowered its pipes and saluted crisply, which was greeted with a huge cheer from the watching students - only to be blasted to pieces a moment later by Umbridge’s final, furious spell. The laughing, milling students bolted in all directions as red-hot shrapnel rained down, and while a few quicker-thinking students put shielding spells up, many of them were knocked over in the general panic. Someone bounced off Evan and sent Becky flying, and he dived forward and pulled her upright, trying to make sure she wasn’t trampled.

“You all right?”

“Yeah!” she yelled back over the din, quickly brushing a burning fragment off his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here!”

They joined the throng flooding down the stairs towards Hufflepuff, safely anonymous in the crowd. There was uproar in the common room, and although his grin was nothing out of the ordinary, he tried to sink into the background and not draw anyone’s attention.

A hand seized his elbow. “Where the hell were you, just now,” demanded Ravi. Tammy and Mike were at his shoulder, too.

“In the Entrance Hall.” Technically, that was absolutely true.

“You saw it, then? Bloody brilliant, Fred and George have outdone themselves with that one!” Ravi guffawed, and it was easy to just join in. _Well, it isn’t _that _far from the truth, it was their idea. Sort of_.

Everyone was still talking about the piping suit of armour, or ‘Armoured Angus’, as it was somehow christened, all through dinner in the Great Hall. Evan tried to keep a low profile, but Lee Jordan hailed him on the way back to the common room with Chris and Mike. “Hey Evan, man, you got a minute? I’ve been looking for you all day, I need a bit of guidance on some Charms.”

He was pretty sure that wasn’t it, but went along with him, anyway. “Sure, no problem. Where to?”

“The library?”

“I’ll catch you guys later,” he told Chris and Mike, falling into step with Lee.

“Charms problems, Lee? Really?” he asked sceptically, when they were safely out of earshot.

Lee just grinned easily, “Yeah, well. Anyway, there’s a couple of guys that wanted to speak to you.”

“I’ll bet.”

Lee led him to a distant corner of the library, behind the Restricted section, where two familiar figures were waiting for him.

“All right, Fred, George?” he said quietly, hoping not to draw Madam Pince’s eagle-eared attention.

“Bloody hell, maybe we should have asked you for help years ago,” said George, looking worryingly impressed as he lounged against a bookcase. Lee just laughed.

Evan coughed, trying not to feel too flattered. “So, did you get everything done that you wanted?”

“Most of it. The setup, anyway.”

“Quite honestly, we were a bit distracted by that distraction,” added Fred.

“It was certainly very distracting.”

“But then, that _was _the idea. Anyway - we just wanted to say thanks,” said Fred, shaking his hand.

“Cracking job, Evan,” added George, doing the same.

“I’m not sure I’d want to push my luck too often, but it was kinda fun,” he admitted. “Although now that school’s back, I’m a bit worried to see what you two are going to pull off next.”

The twins laughed. “Wait and see, Evan, wait and see,” chortled George. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll start tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I dare say everyone could do with a good laugh on the first day back,” added Fred.

* * * * *

Having been on tenterhooks all day, waiting for whatever mayhem Fred and George had promised to unleash, Evan ended up missing it. After a rather morose Care of Magical Creatures lesson, he and Karen had stuck around to help Hagrid prepare the tanks for the murtlaps that the fourth-years would be working with in a few weeks’ time. Hagrid moved rather slowly and with a bit of a limp, but he cheered up a bit at their company, particularly when Karen brought up the merpeople’s methods of murtlap farming that had been a small part of her project.

On the walk back up to the castle, Karen tilted her face towards the warm afternoon sun. “It’s nice there’s a bit of warmth coming back into the spring, it’s been positively Baltic this winter.”

“And you stuck at the bottom of the Black Lake half the time,” Evan said, with a chuckle. “It was cold enough on dry land with the hippogriffs, I’ve got no idea how you coped under water.”

She grinned at him, “Oh, the glamorous life of the marine magizoologist! But the water doesn’t get below zero, so a good, well-charmed wetsuit and you barely notice. And then there’s you, slogging around in all that snow and ice, and with the wind straight from the North Pole.”

“Yeah, but with hippogriffs you can at least huddle together for warmth. Good luck doing that with a merperson!”

Their friendly laughter faded when they stepped into the castle, and they exchanged a look. You didn’t need seven years of Hogwarts education to know that something had happened, just the buzz in the air was enough. Halkett and Urquhart of the Inquisitorial Squad glaring smugly at them from either side of the doors to the Great Hall was something of a give-away, too. Karen heaved a quiet sigh.

“Well, I suppose I’d better go and see what terrors Fred and George have unleashed upon us all now.”

“You immediately suspect them, of course?”

She arched a finely-sculpted eyebrow. “After seven years?”

He chuckled, “Good point. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“’Bye, Evan.”

He stepped into the common room, and into absolute bedlam. Leah seized his arm, a huge grin on her face. “There you are! Where the hell have you _been_?”

“Did ya see it? Ya must’ve,” Gwion demanded over the cacophony of voices.

“-Brilliant! The look on her face-”

“-Just like - not any more, bitch!”

“-Outgrown full-time education-”

“-And _whoosh_, straight out the doors-”

It was hard to calm people down for long enough to pick up, but gradually he got the gist. Fred and George’s latest and biggest prank had got them caught by Umbridge and her goon squad, but rather than meekly accept their punishment, they had gone out in a blaze of glory, insubordination, and sheer, bloody _cool_ that would be talked about for years. _Were you there? Did you see it? It was awesome! Were you _there_? _

Fred and George’s glorious departure was the only topic of conversation in the common room that afternoon, and it continued over dinner, too, told over and over from dozens of different viewpoints, all filled with laughter, all gaining more and more outlandish detail each time it was told.

“If they had to take the fall, this is how they’d want to be remembered,” he observed to Michelle over a plate of stew and dumplings.

She just laughed, and added, “Well, they did say they were going to leave their mark on the place after Easter, and it looks like Umbridge is still trying to deal with that swamp.”

“Shall we go for a walk later?”

She beamed at him, “Ooh, yes, let’s!”

Later, they set off together into the castle on their usual route, rambling its way upwards. Michelle hooked her arm through his, and the bright smile on her face and the bounce in her step made the old, familiar _ache_ in his chest almost unbearable, and he wanted nothing more than to keep the glow of happiness that radiated from her shining brightly.

“I still can’t believe you were with Hagrid when all this was going on,” she said, as they took the stairs up to the second floor.

“Yeah, well, neither can I.” He shook his head with a chuff of amusement, “They’re going to be talked about for years, and there I was, messing about making up tanks for murtlaps.”

She giggled, “Are you kidding? They’ll probably end up in _Hogwarts - A History_!”

“And won’t they be thrilled to be immortalised in dowdy parchment and prose, rather than Canary Creams, exploding cauldrons, and really good fart jokes.”

“Who says they can’t have both?” she asked, making him laugh.

They reached the landing on the second floor, and Michelle was showing no sign of letting him go as they strolled along the long, empty corridor. _Fine by me_. “It’s going to be awfully quiet here without them, but I can’t blame them for deciding that enough was enough,” he said quietly.

She puffed out her cheeks, “I know. I’ve been so focused on finishing up - ‘I must do my N.E.W.T.s, I must do my N.E.W.T.s’. I’d almost forgotten that we don’t technically have to be here at all. We’re adults, and we can leave any time we like.”

“Are you going to tell your mum and dad that, though? And it would limit you in terms of jobs.”

“That’s why I envy them. I could never do that - but they can. They know what they want, and they don’t care about N.E.W.T.s to get it.”

“Umbridge thinks she won. All she’s done is prove she’s a failure as a teacher. Can you imagine Professor Sprout being happy about any of her students leaving before they were done school?”

“Well… maybe Zacharias Smith?”

At her unexpectedly-hopeful voice, he glanced over at her and nudged her shoulder playfully, grinning. “Maybe.”

At length, their meandering route took them to the fifth floor, where they found Professor Umbridge and Miles Bletchley standing at the entrance to Gregory the Smarmy’s corridor. In front of them, the stone floor gave way to murky, turbid-looking water dotted with rotting stumps and clumps of lank grass, while moss and slime climbed the walls. A haze filled the air, lazy curls and wisps of humidity that obscured the ceiling and made it impossible to tell just how far the swamp extended down the corridor.

Umbridge swung around at the sound of their footsteps, her wand clutched threateningly in her hand. Her carefully-coiffed hair was coming undone in little, flyaway frizzles, and her sweat-streaked face was locked in a rictus of petulant fury. “And _what_. Are you doing here,” she grated.

“Taking a walk, Professor,” Evan answered, as calmly as possible.

“Then take it somewhere else!” Umbridge snarled. “And _get your hands off him, girl_!” She jabbed her wand at them, and there was a sudden _crack _and a burning jolt where Michelle’s hand rested on his arm that blasted them apart. Michelle let out a startled yelp of pain, and almost without thinking Evan found himself in a ready crouch with his wand half-drawn.

“If I see that wand come out, Fielding, it will be detention for you at the very least!” Umbridge spat impatiently, “I will have propriety and decorum and _order _in this castle if it is the last thing I do!”

Ugly threats ran through his mind, but before he could settle on one that might not get him expelled, there was a sudden yell and a loud splash from out of the mists. Umbridge whirled on the spot, calling, “Argus?!”

“Sorry, Professor, I think she slipped,” came the caretaker’s voice amidst female shrieks of outrage, swearing, and sloshing.

Umbridge growled under her breath and rounded on them again, “You two get out of my sight! And if I catch you back here again tonight, it _will_ be detention, and fifty points from both of you!”

Anger bubbling in his throat, Evan turned back the way they’d come without a word. Michelle was half-hiding behind him, her eyes huge, but he forced himself to smile reassuringly at her and usher her along in front of him until they were safely back at the stairs and out of Umbridge’s sight.

He forced out a breath, trying to send his rage out with it. “Are you OK, Michelle?” he asked softly.

She took a deep, unsteady breath, “I’m all right,” she whispered, sinking back against the balustrade and flexing her hand. “Just stings, that’s all.”

“Can I see?”

Reluctantly, she held it out to him. There was a painful-looking scorch mark on the back of her hand, and her index and middle fingers were swollen. Gently, he held her wrist while she pulled her wand with her good hand and whispered a few healing charms. They watched the marks fade, and she flexed her fingers again. Her eyes darted up to meet his, and she pulled away, mumbling, “Better not let Umbridge see us like this.”

“Michelle!”

Evan gave her a look, and reached out and took her hand. She blushed, but this time she didn’t pull away from him, and they headed back to the common room without another word, her hand still in his.


	20. Outbreak

If Professor Umbridge thought her troubles were over with the Weasley twins’ departure, she very quickly found out the next morning that she was sadly mistaken. Stinkpellets warred with dungbombs and fireworks in the corridors to start the day, while Umbridge-itis reached epidemic levels in her Defence class. Michelle helped a chundering Tammy to the hospital wing while around them, her fellow students bled, fainted, vomited, and developed alarming fevers within minutes of class starting. Liz Nott from Slytherin threw up as well, although it wasn’t clear whether it was from the sight of blood, the smell of all the puke, or if she, too, was taking advantage of Weasley ingenuity.

Her problems were not confined to the classroom. The swamp on the fifth floor remained despite her best efforts to remove it. It was generally agreed that it was a terrible shame that it didn’t fall into Professor Flitwick’s bailiwick, and so he couldn’t possibly offer his headmistress any assistance in removing it. Sunita Patel’s insistence that she had seen the Charms professor surreptitiously reinforcing the swamp’s enchantments was ignored as totally preposterous.

Above them all, Peeves ran riot, seemingly taking Fred’s parting request to ‘give her hell’ to heart - if a poltergeist could be said to have a heart. He zoomed unchecked all around the school, upending stacks of paper, toppling things off shelves and bookcases, juggling ink pots and flaming torches above unfortunate passing students, and generally causing as much chaos as he could. What with one thing and another, people quickly learned to arm themselves with a Bubble-Head Charm, hoick their bags up on their shoulders, and run like hell between classes when they could hear the distant raspberry of the poltergeist approaching.

When Michelle and her friends - all miraculously restored to full health - dashed back to the common room at lunch to ditch their bags, leaving the boys to take shelter with their Gryffindor friends, they burst in on the fifth-year girls in a tight knot, laughing uproariously.

“This. Is the greatest thing ever. I mean, wow!” Susan Bones was saying through her laughter, her face almost as red as her hair.

“What happened?” Maxi asked.

Hannah wiped her eyes and took the lead. “So, Sue and I were held up, coming out of Transfiguration, and when we get outside, there’s Pansy Parkinson having a meltdown in the middle of the landing with an enormous rack of antlers on her head.”

“Really? Someone finally got her?” said Tammy.

“Oh yeah! She was screaming all sorts at Granger and Patil from Gryffindor about it, but all Granger said was, ‘I wish it had been me’.”

“So who was it?”

Hannah and Susan turned to stare pointedly at a brightly-blushing Eloise Midgeon.

“_Seriously?_ It was you?” Tammy demanded incredulously.

Ellie was having trouble meeting anyone’s eyes, but there was no mistaking the smug grin on her face. “She deserved it! I know I shouldn’t have, but I just… lost my temper a bit.”

Becky gave her a congratulatory hug. “This _is_ the greatest thing ever. Well done, Ellie!”

“I’m a prefect, I shouldn’t laugh!” snickered Hannah.

“So am I, but I’m going to anyway,” said Maxi. “This is _brilliant!_”

“Your day seems to be going pretty well, then, Hannah?” said Becky, with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, it gets better. Umbridge has roped all her Inquisition Squad goons into damage limitation, now that Peeves is on the loose, so Malfoy and his chums are having to get their hands dirty. I think the Slytherin Springbok was running to tattle to Umbridge about something when she ran into Ellie.”

“And she gobbed off at you one too many times, eh, Ellie?” asked Maxi.

“Something like that.”

“She still hasn’t been able to get rid of that swamp, either,” Hannah continued. “She had Hagrid haul a boat up there earlier, and Mr. Filch is having to pole people down the corridor to get to Ancient Runes.”

That got another hearty laugh.

“She’s in a rare temper, too. She put our whole class in detention for people comin’ down sick, earlier,” said Maxi.

“Umbridge-itis, was it?” Hannah asked innocently, patting her forehead as if to check for a fever. “I think I might be coming down with that this afternoon.”

“I can definitely feel something coming on, too,” agreed Leanne.

“Terrible shame, isn’t it? Still, you can’t pick on people for being sick,” said Tammy, grinning.

“She’s doing her level best, the cow,” Maxi said darkly.

“By this stage, Maxi, I’m really not sure I give much of a crap, anymore,” Becky said breezily.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not doing Defence,” Maxi pointed out.

“Still. Sometimes I just feel like sacking it all off and pulling a Weasley.”

“I’m with you there,” said Leanne, grinning. “There’s definitely days I could jump on a broom and leave it all behind.”

“Yeah, but not before lunch,” said Susan. “You wouldn’t want to miss that lovely kedgeree.”

Leanne made a revolted face and pretended to stick her fingers down her throat. “You guys go on ahead. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

They went up to lunch in the Great Hall as a group on something of a high. Despite Leanne’s reaction, Michelle was pleased to see there _was _kedgeree - and salads, and hot rolls fresh from the oven, too. The boys joined them a few minutes later, looking a bit rumpled, and Chris still had a large ink splotch on the side of his collar that had gone unnoticed until Becky charmed it clean for him.

No one was in a hurry to leave after lunch, as the Great Hall was one of the few refuges from both Peeves and the pranksters that had stepped up to fill the void left by Fred and George. Instead, they lingered by the Gryffindor table, trying to cheer up a glum-looking Lee Jordan and Kenny Towler, who were already finding their dorm empty and very quiet after the twins’ departure. Eventually, with time ticking away towards the start of afternoon classes, the Hufflepuffs made a quick trip back to their dorms and then went back up into the castle.

As they reached the Grand Staircase, a figure in Slytherin robes was storming down towards them. Two enraged eyes burned in a face that was yellowy-orange and covered in large, painful-looking flakes that almost looked like scales.

“I’d put something on that if I were you, Warrington,” said Jason Samuels from Ravenclaw, leaning casually against the banister and grinning hugely as the figure stomped past.

“Yeah, like milk. Just keep away from anyone with a spoon,” Grant Page added, snickering.

There was a furious growl, but Warrington didn’t stop or even look back.

“Jeez, that’s a revolting thought,” said Terry Boot, shuddering. Grant just laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Oh, come on, he looks like a walking bowl of cornflakes!”

Roger Davies was also hurrying down the stairs, looking harassed and fed-up. “I don’t even want to know,” he muttered despairingly, almost to himself. “Anyway - all you seventh-year lot, meeting after class, in the library. Be there or have a bloody good reason why not.”

The Hufflepuffs exchanged a look at his unusually-peremptory order.

“Well, that’s us told, an’ no mistake,” Mike said sarcastically.

Roger paused for a moment, and his shoulders slumped a little. “Mike, I’ve already had a bloody long day, _please_ don’t make it any worse. Terry, tell Anthony and Padma there’s a prefects’ meeting at five, usual place.”

“Jawohl!” said Terry, saluting sharply and clicking his heels together. Roger shook his head and hurried on, leaving exasperated muttering trailing in his wake.

After their final class for the day, they made their way to the library, where the Ravenclaws were already waiting together with Trish from Gryffindor, who waved them over to a large table under one of the windows. Madam Pince’s beady eyes watched them every step of the way. Roger finally appeared with the rest of the Gryffindors and hurried to join them. The Head Boy was looking uncharacteristically rumpled and rebellious, with his tie missing and his top button undone, and his normally-immaculate hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it for some time.

“Are you sure about this, Roger?” asked Kenny, with an apprehensive glance in the direction of Madam Pince’s desk.

“It’ll be fine, I won’t keep everyone long,” he said, in a low, rapid voice. “Suffice to say, this term has got off to an interesting start - you all know what I mean. Umbridge is on the war-path, and her goons are not only spending a lot of time up in the castle, they’re not exactly shy about picking on anyone they think might be involved in the pranks going on in the corridors.. If you’re one of the people that’s adding to the mayhem out there, firstly, I do not under any circumstances want to know. Secondly, what I will say is, don’t get caught. For the love of Merlin, do _not_ get caught. The Weasleys were happy enough to do a bunk, but don’t think you can pull off the same stunt. Understood?”

There was a general murmur of agreement. Roger let out a breath, and ran a hand through his hair again. Michelle could almost hear the loud, fake sigh that such an action would normally have drawn from Fred and George, along with some overwrought declaration of everlasting love, and felt a strong pang of loss.

“Right, the other thing I wanted to discuss is the Inquisitorial Squad and all the pranks, and also Peeves. The younger students are going to need some guidance and some backup, so I’m going to ask that we continue what we were doing before Easter in seeing the kids between class and generally being visible to deter anyone that might try to start something.” He made a face, like he’d bitten into a particularly sour lemon. “I’ll try to sell it to Umbridge that you’re all eager beavers, keeping things firmly under her control if she asks, so if the Inquisitorial Squad start being a pain in the arse, don’t escalate things if you can avoid it. Becky, I’ll need you to help out with proper scheduling this weekend, but for now, can everyone please just do what they can?”

This time, the murmur of agreement was a little louder, and Roger’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Great. Thanks, everyone, I’ll let you go.”

With more that a few anxious glances at the fearsome librarian, they all trooped out.

“See you all at detention tonight,” Tammy said cheerfully, once they were outside.

“You don’t have to sound so pleased about it,” Karen said coolly. Tammy just shrugged, and they went their separate ways.

“So it’s back to shepherding the titches between classes again,” Ravi sighed, as they headed back to the common room.

Evan pursed his lips thoughtfully, “It’s probably a good idea anyway with the amount of shenanigans in the corridors right now, not to mention Peeves on the loose. And when you add to that the Goon Squad, and Cornflakes Boy is bouncing around like a loose cannon, too, they’re going to need some protection.”

“‘Cornflakes Boy’!” Becky chortled, “What the heck did they hit him with?

“Who knows?” said Ravi.

“Who cares? I’m sure he deserved it,” Tammy added blithely.

“He’s really lost the plot since Montague got… whatever it was that happened to him,” said Evan. “I mean, he’s never exactly been a shrinking violet at the best of times, but he’s been roughing up anyone that so much as looks at him recently.”

“Aye, he hexed whats-his-name, Goldstein, the other day on the fourth floor - and he’s a prefect, an’ all,” said Mike. “Warrington was trying to take points off some thirdies when he stepped in. Got him right in the face.”

“Best we just stay away from him if we can,” said Evan.

“Perhaps you should take your own advice, Evan,” Michelle said, with a ghost of a smile. The others laughed.

“Trust me, I’ll be doing my best!”

* * * * *

Detention that night turned out to be a farce. It was standing room only in Umbridge’s classroom, with four different years all cheerfully talking over the top of each other and ignoring Umbridge’s bluster at the front of the room, and eventually she had to admit defeat and let them all go. It was a very happy group that ambled back to their common room - until Peeves reappeared, hurling metal chamber pots from the seventh-floor landing, cackling like a madman and calling out, “Gardez-l’eau!” as each one was launched into space.

Wednesday got off to a lively start when Peeves somehow dumped a huge bag full of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast. Suspicion over who would even keep tarantulas immediately fell on Hagrid, and it probably didn’t help that a niffler somehow got into Professor Umbridge’s office later that day. The little creature tore the place apart in a frenzy until it was found by Umbridge, fast asleep on a little heap of her jewellery.

Professor Umbridge, much to her frustration, had still not removed the swamp on the fifth floor. Mr. Filch was pressed into service as a reluctant boatman to punt the students across the swamp, and their tempers were not improved when some fourth-year wag in Ravenclaw started to sing _O Sole Mio_ in a rather good tenor voice. It caught on to such an extent that between every lesson, the hallways rang to the sounds of students trying out their operatic stylings. Perhaps inevitably, it quickly resulted in one of the most cherishably ridiculous of Umbridge’s decrees:-

** — BY ORDER OF —**

** THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS**

_ Any student singing while being transported across the fifth-floor swamp will be expelled._

_ The above is in accordance with _

_ ** Educational Decree Number Forty-Seven** _

_ Dolores Umbridge_

_ HIGH INQUISITOR_

_ 25 April, 1996_

Escort duty for the younger years meant ducking out of class exactly on the bell and jogging to collect them - or a minute or two early if the teachers turned a blind eye, which they usually did. Becky was already gathering schedules to try to plan the shortest routes between departure, collection, drop-off, and destination for everyone, but arrangements were largely _ad-hoc_ until she could clear her head on the weekend and get everything mapped out. In the event, things were relatively quiet, although Chris had to haul one third-year up on Thursday morning and hand him over to the Gryffindor prefects when he found him with a Dungbomb in hand and ready to throw outside the Arithmancy classroom.

“It’s the stupidity more than anything,” he complained to Evan later, after the first class after lunch. “I mean, I was _right there_! He didn’t seem to understand that protecting him from the Goon Squad is not the same as covering for him while he caused chaos.”

Evan shrugged. “Well, he is in Gryffindor for a reason. But it’s not just them, you won’t believe what these two Ravenclaw girls were trying to do with the painting of Hepzebah Smurfwaite on the second floor. Anyway, time to deliver another lot, and then we’d better get off to Herbology.”

The first-years loitering in the doorway of the Charms classroom slowly emerged at the sight of their seniors. It was rather depressing to see the way that they huddled in a tight bunch and watched the corners nervously. _Coming to Hogwarts ought to be the coolest thing in the world when you’re eleven, not something to be afraid of,_ Evan thought sadly.

Meanwhile, Chris was chivvying them into shape. “Everyone ready? All right, let’s go. Next stop, Transfiguration - and you’d better have your homework done, or Professor McGonagall will have kittens!”

They were about halfway to their destination when Evan heard the clatter of running feet approaching, and pulled out his wand cautiously. Seconds later, a third-year Gryffindor girl stumbled around the corner and nearly fell into him, gasping for breath.

“Hey! You all right? What’s up,” he asked rapidly, half-crouching to grab the girl’s shoulders and hold her upright.

“Helpme!” Words tumbled out of her in a breathless, jumbled flood. “Carrie’shurt…helpme... Ohhurryplease-”

Evan’s startled eyes flicked up to meet Chris’ and then concentrated on the girl. Chris conjured a chair, and he guided her gently into it. Around them, the first-years were deathly silent.

“OK, deep breaths now, deep breaths.” A memory sparked, “It’s Claire, isn’t it? Tell me from the top.” He tried to keep his voice steady and soothing, despite the sudden spike of panic he felt.

The girl raised her tear-stained face and stammered rapidly, “My friend, Carrie, she... she... we were up by the Divination tower, and, and, someone hexed her and pulled her into the side-corridor, and, and... she was screaming, and-”

Claire’s voice was rising in panic, and he cut her off, trying to stop her building up a head of steam on the hysteria front. “Whoa, OK! She’s on the seventh floor, right? By the North Tower?”

She nodded, and Evan swore under his breath, then stood up, beckoning Chris forward. “OK Claire, this is Chris, he’ll look after you. Chris, get everyone to the nearest classroom and lock the door.”

“What about you, mate?”

He swallowed, trying to hold back a flutter of nerves. “I’m heading for the seventh floor. If you see McGonagall or a proper teacher, send them up after me, all right?”

“There was a girl, a Hufflepuff like you. Seventh-year. She came running, but I, uh, I think they g-got her, too,” Claire sobbed.

Evan felt a sick lurch in his stomach. Seventh-year Hufflepuff girls were thin on the ground. It could only be one of his mates, maybe even-

“I’ll come with you,” Chris broke into his thoughts, his face pale.

“Damn it, Chris! Look after these kids first, alright?!” Evan snarled.

“Evan-” Chris began, but it was too late, he was already racing down the corridor, wand clutched firmly in his hand and terror threatening to spill over in his heart despite the snarl on his face.

He took the stairs two at a time, driving his legs hard to the top and jumping the gaps before the stairs swung fully into position. Reaching the seventh floor, he charged off towards the North Tower, but forced himself to slow a little the closer he got, wand poised in his sweating palm with a shielding spell on his lips.

The wall broke on his left, and he skidded to a halt and carefully peered around the edge. A crumpled form was huddled under one window, dark smears on the stone around her, while closer to the mouth of the corridor lay another unmoving figure.

Blood all over her face.

So very, very still.

_Michelle_.

The breath rushed out of his lungs in a painful gasp, like he’d been hit in the guts by an angry dragon, and he took one lurching step forward before he stopped himself, his head swimming and rage bubbling up in his chest like acid. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe...

After what might have been a second or might have been a year, he shook himself out of his stupor. The end of his wand glowed with golden light, a shielding spell trembling on the final edge of being cast, and he stepped around the corner and edged closer to Michelle as fast as he dared. It felt like an eternity before he could cast the spell around them both and sink into a crouch by her side. His fingers darted to her throat, and the relief at finding a pulse was so great he almost collapsed. Gashes marred the right side of her face, while her left arm bent sickeningly. Panic flooded through him even as he gently ran his palm across her unwounded cheek. He couldn’t think what to do for best, he couldn’t think, he just had to get her back, get her back, and-

“_Rennervate_.”

Her eyes flew wide even as she moaned loudly in pain, jerking convulsively on the floor for a split-second until she recognised him and her eyes focused.

“Evan! Oh, Merlin! Run! I, uh-”

“It’s OK, ‘Chelle, it’s OK,” he said softly. Her good hand found his and clung onto him like a lifeline. “You’re going to be fine.”

“_Hu-u-urts_!” she sobbed. “Th-that girl!”

His eyes snapped up to the body by the window. _Oh Merlin, by all that’s magic, please don’t let that be a body_.

“I need to check on her. Help’s coming, just a little longer,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Evan!” She clutched at him even tighter. Lifting her fingers away felt like tearing out his own heart. “Hurts!”

“I know, sweetheart, but I need to check on her. I won’t be far away. Who did this, Michelle?”

“I... uh...,”

He shook his head impatiently at himself, “Sorry! It doesn’t matter-”

“Warrington!” she blurted, her eyes wide in panic.

“Cassius Warrington? From Slytherin?”

“_Yes_! Oh, Merlin, help her, Evan!”

Somehow, he was smiling down at her. He was distantly surprised to realise his face was wet with tears. “It’s OK, ‘Chelle, just hang in there. I’ll be right back.”

Cautiously, he crept over to the other fallen figure, his eyes darting in all directions with the anticipation of an ambush, but none came and he let out an involuntary hiss when he stopped by her side and knelt down. Her robes were ripped and burned, some of her hair singed away and her trousers were still smouldering in places. Burns and deep slashes covered her body, and the blood… the blood seemed to be _everywhere_. Her face was a mass of swelling, the bruising starting to darken. Trembling, he extinguished her trousers with a spell and felt for her pulse, and was rewarded with a terrifyingly-distant, rapid heartbeat. An awful helplessness swept over him. He didn’t dare do anything, the girl needed urgent help, real help. He could hear shouting coming from the Grand Staircase, and the sound of running feet. Quickly, he stood and hurried past Michelle, crouching just past her with his wand raised and ready to hex any newcomers.

Professor Sinistra burst around the corner and stopped dead. Evan felt a flood of relief so strong he nearly collapsed. Here was an adult, a teacher, here was someone in charge who would know what to do! The feeling lasted only long enough for the Professor to clap a hand to her chest, her mouth hanging wide in almost comical shock.

“Fielding! What happened!” she gasped.

“They were attacked! See to the third year, it’s really bad,” he barked urgently.

The Professor just looked at him in bewilderment.

“Damn it, _help her_!”

The woman blinked, then bustled forward to crouch over the fallen third year, drawing her wand. Evan carefully backed up to kneel at Michelle’s side again, still facing the main corridor and ready to hex anyone who looked like a threat. Michelle’s good hand clamped over his wrist.

“How’re you doing? Is it just your arm, or are you hurt anywhere else?” he whispered tenderly.

She shook her head through her tears, pain-filled eyes locked desperately on his.

“Just your arm? OK, then. Just take it easy.” He tried to think, but his head was all awhirl. “_Ferula_,” he muttered, watching bandages wrap and splint her arm, flinching at the gut-wrenching bark of agony that drew from her. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back tears at the thought of hurting her. She had been lying half-curled on her side, and was now rocking forward, away from the floor. “You want to sit up? Here, let me. I got you, ‘Chelle, easy now...”

He slid one hand under her good shoulder and lifted slowly, carefully. As gently as he dared, he guided her damaged arm close to her side and across her stomach, propping her body up against him. He dropped his wand to lift the hem of her jumper, folding it over her elbow and forearm to support them in a makeshift sling. Her good arm snaked around him, and he swallowed before looking up again. Professor Sinistra’s wand scratched frantically at the floor beside her for a few seconds and then, with a final tap, something golden shot across the marble and disappeared down the corridor. Seconds later, she cast a pink spell into the ceiling and, far below them, a loud voice rang out that echoed through the castle.

“_Matron to the seventh floor, North Tower. Emergency. Matron to the seventh floor, North Tower..._”

He held Michelle gently, cradling her against his body while she burrowed her head into his chest, her body trembling with shock and exhaustion and pain. He could hear others coming, now, running footsteps approaching. Megan Beckton, Lee Jordan, Chris, Professor Flitwick...

Madam Pomfrey sprinted around the corner, hesitating only a fraction of a second to assess Michelle before joining Professor Sinestra over the abused body of the third-year. He closed his eyes, feeling the sudden slump of exhaustion as the adrenaline abruptly drained out of him.

“Mr. Fielding? Are you all right?”

He opened his eyes to see Professor Flitwick kneeling next to them, his face a strange mixture of anger and compassion. “I’m fine. Help her, _please_, I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ve done brilliantly, Mr. Fielding,” Professor Flitwick said encouragingly, “Madam Pomfrey is rather busy, but let’s get Miss Taylor to the Hospital Wing, shall we? Are you all right to walk?”

The little man levitated Michelle, but she refused to let go of him, so he stood awkwardly and held her close while Professor Flitwick guided them both down the corridor, clearing the gathering crowd in a stern, if squeaky, voice.

“Out of the way, everyone, out of the way, please, coming through.”

They managed the stairs without incident and together, they eased Michelle down onto a bed by the matron’s office. The professor fussed around them, casting several charms to clean the worst of the blood from her face and hair, but Michelle paid him no notice, simply clinging to Evan as tightly as she could. He didn’t dare let her go, either, as if she could suddenly slip away from him if he did, but gently stroked her hair. Professor Flitwick’s face took on a frown of concentration, and with small, precise wand movements, he cast several more counter-jinxes.

“Can you give her something for the pain?” he asked, his voice raw. “She’s in agony.”

Professor Flitwick bit his moustache anxiously. “I don’t dare. I know some crude-but-effective duelling-ground healing, but this must be done correctly. Anything I attempt will slow the proper healing process, and may even prevent a full recovery.”

Evan’s breath shuddered in his throat, but he said nothing.

The Professor patted his arm, “Professor Sprout will be on her way. She’ll know what to do, Mr. Fielding.”

He swallowed hard and bent his head to rest on hers, an aching chasm in his chest. He could feel her shivering with the shock and pain - and there was nothing he could do. In despair, he kissed her hair and whispered, “Hang in there, ‘Chelle. Not much longer.”

A gauze pad appeared in his vision, and he looked up to see Professor Flitwick holding it out to him, conjuring more with his free hand. Evan took it and pressed it gently against the gashes on her forehead and cheek, watching in queasy fascination as the white fabric quickly darkened and turned red.

Michelle twitched in his arms at the sound of the door, and he looked back over his shoulder, but his momentary flare of hope was crushed when he saw not Professor Sprout but the squat figure in pink tweed of his least-favourite teacher.

“What’s the meaning of all this uproar, Filius!” she demanded in her high-pitched, peremptory voice, marching towards them.

“There’s been an incident, Professor Umbridge,” the little man said shortly, glaring sternly at his colleague.

“What, her?” Professor Umbridge said dismissively, peering at Michelle from the bedside, “All this fuss about an emergency, and it’s just some silly girl that’s tripped and bumped her head?”

The blood roared in Evan’s veins, and it was only Michelle’s tight grip that kept him from doing something that would get him expelled - and probably jailed. He felt Flitwick’s hand on his arm, too.

“Not just Miss Taylor, but Miss Greenhalgh, one of my third-years,” Flitwick snapped. “She’s been very badly injured. Poppy is with her now.”

Before Umbridge could reply, a very out-of-breath Professor Sprout barrelled through the infirmary doors and hurried straight to Michelle’s bedside, her wand already in her hand. “Where’s she hurt, Mr. Fielding?”

Even now, Umbridge wasn’t finished interfering. “Professor Sprout-”

Evan ignored her, speaking rapidly, “Her arm seems to be the worst, her forearm was badly broken when I found her. She’d been stunned and there’s some cuts on her face and scalp-”

“_Hem-hem_, Professor Sprout!”

“Not now, Dolores!” Professor Sprout hustled into Madam Pomfrey’s office and returned a second later, carrying an armful of vials and bottles. “Who splinted this arm?”

“Me,” said Evan, feeling a swoop of trepidation, but Professor Sprout just nodded.

“Good work, it’ll hold for now. All right, Miss Taylor, I’ll start on these head wounds. They’re not serious, but they’re deep and rather messy. Your arm might have to wait for a little while, but I’ll give you something for the pain-”

“I must protest, Pomona! It is quite against the law to dish out medical treatment where a qualified Healer-”

“I _am _a qualified Healer! And you must know that, because you’ve been rummaging through my file,” Professor Sprout spat impatiently, sparing Umbridge a brief, fearsome glare as she held a vial up to Michelle’s lips. “Lift that gauze, Mr. Fielding, and give me some room to work. Thank you.”

She applied a careful dab of purple paste to the gashes on Michelle’s cheek, but although it foamed and dissolved, leaving new skin behind, that skin quickly split and tore open again, drawing a shuddering moan from Michelle.

Professor Sprout bit her lip for a moment, then tapped Michelle’s cheek experimentally with her wand. “The Dragon’s Claw. Weak and poorly done, but still. You know the counter-curse, of course, Filius?”

Professor Flitwick’s cheek twitched. “I should have caught that already. But if it’s badly done... give me a moment, please, Pomona, let’s see what we have to untangle, here.”

He raised his wand in an intricate motion, muttering a long phrase under his breath, and then paused, his face locked in concentration. After a few long moments, his wand gave a few small, precise twists and, at a word of command, something large and red flared briefly on the right side of Michelle’s face and then faded.

“That should do it.”

This time, Professor Sprout’s topical ointment worked, although the new skin stood out pink and livid against her olive complexion. The professor watched intently for a few moments, then nodded and started on the other wounds around her forehead and hairline.

“Nicely done, Filius-”

The doors at the end of the room crashed open under Professor McGonagall’s wand. She was at the head of a stretcher bearing the Ravenclaw girl, Carrie, with Madam Pomfrey hurrying along at its side.

“How is she, Pomona?” Madam Pomfrey demanded, as she and McGonagall quickly but gently manoeuvred the stretcher onto a nearby bed. Professor McGonagall hurried to a huge, shallow fireplace beside the matron’s office and thrust a hand into a jar on its high mantelpiece.

“She’ll be fine, although I’ll need your help with her arm.”

Green fire flared in the fireplace, and Professor McGonagall crouched in front of the flames, her voice low and urgent.

“It’ll keep? I’ve got to get this girl to St. Mungo’s,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“Madam Pomfrey, what on earth is going on!” Professor Umbridge demanded shrilly.

“Go on, we can hold the fort here,” said Professor Sprout, ignoring Umbridge and running a gentle smear of paste behind Michelle’s ear. Evan almost laughed at the way the increasingly-puce Headmistress was completely ignored by the teachers who, to him, seemed to have their priorities straight.

Umbridge planted her hands on her hips, stepping between Madam Pomfrey and the floo. “Madam Pomfrey! As Headmistress I must insist-”

But the matron wasn’t listening, either, levitating the stretcher and turning for the floo. “_Get out of the way, you bloody fool!_” she thundered, with a ferocity which drove Umbridge back several paces in shock - and cleared the way. Seconds later, both she and stretcher were gone. The green flames abruptly vanished, leaving an awkward silence in the room.

Professor Sprout was the first to recover. “I think that’s all of them, Miss Taylor. You’re doing marvellously. Now, this is a blood replenishing potion; drink it down, there’s a good girl.”

Evan felt a touch on his arm and looked up, his eyes wild. Professor McGonagall was beside him, an unusually-gentle look on her stern face.

“Come with me, Mr. Fielding. Professor Sprout will sort her out, have no fear.”

Michelle whimpered, clamping her fingers painfully around his wrist, and he looked helplessly between her and the professor.

“I think Mr. Fielding is needed right where he is for now, Minerva,” said Flitwick, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“_Hem-hem_!” came Umbridge’s menacingly-saccharine voice, “If I do not receive a full explanation for this afternoon’s disturbance immediately, I will-”

It was just as well that Umbridge couldn’t see the look that crossed Professor McGonagall’s face before she whirled around and drew herself up to her full height, frost practically crackling in the air between them. “And the moment my students are no longer in pain or actively bleeding, _I will begin to make inquiries!_”

The colouring in Professor Umbridge’s face now gave her a close resemblance to an overripe grape, Evan thought detachedly, but the puckered disapproval on her face positively wilted under the blow-torch intensity of Professor McGonagall’s glare. “I want your report before dinner, and I shall have it. See to it immediately, Professor McGonagall.”

With that, she turned and stalked out, and there was a collective release of breath as the door swung shut behind her. Evan turned his attention back to Michelle, but he heard Professor Flitwick say quietly, “You must be careful, Minerva. We can’t afford to lose you, especially not now.”

Professor McGonagall’s exhalation sizzled through her nostrils, and Evan could imagine the deadly look on her face. “How is she doing, Pomona?” she asked eventually.

“I’ve given her a strong analgesic, but there’s not a lot else I can do until Poppy gets back. Her arm is going to be tricky, I’m afraid.”

“A bone-crushing curse. Maybe more than one,” Professor Flitwick added. “She’s fortunate it’s only her arm, or we may have two students at St. Mungo's.”

_Or beyond help entirely_, Evan thought bleakly. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from Michelle, painfully aware of the warmth of the hand clutching his wrist. Gently, he took her wrist and slid her hand down into his, lacing their fingers together.

“Professor,” he said, his voice raspy, “The girl... there was a girl that found them. One of yours. Claire, I think her name is-”

“I know who you mean, Mr. Fielding, I left her in the charge of Mr. Jordan. I’ll speak to her shortly.”

“I, uh... she was really upset.”

For a moment, Professor McGonagall almost smiled at the understatement. “I’ll be sure that we take good care of her, Mr. Fielding, never fear. You are unharmed?”

“Yeah. It was all over by the time I got there.” _All over the walls, all over the floor_...

“That is something, at least.”

Professor Flitwick conjured a chair for him, letting him sit by Michelle’s bedside. That put his head nearly level with hers, and he could see her normally bright, inquisitive brown eyes pain-dulled and drowsy. The feeling of helpless impotence swept over him again, and all he could do was run his thumb over her clenched knuckles and will time to go faster. Behind him, he could hear the professors talking.

“I think we should be off and see to our other students, Pomona. No doubt rumour is already sweeping the school, but we must try to keep them calm and stop anything escalating,” Professor Flitwick said.

“And we must conduct an investigation into this matter, as well - as Professor Umbridge is so eager to remind us,” Professor McGonagall added acidly. “You’ll be all right here until Poppy returns?”

“Of course, although I would be grateful if one of you might stop with my Hufflepuffs and let them know the situation?”

“I’ll speak to them immediately, before I head up to Ravenclaw Tower.”

“Thank you, Filius.”

Evan swallowed and half-turned in his chair, restricted by Michelle’s grip on his hand. “Professor McGonagall? Michelle gave me a name, up on the seventh floor. Cassius Warrington.”

The teachers stilled, and Professor McGonagall’s mouth thinned to a razor-like line. “Did she, indeed? Well, well.” There was a long silence. “I will see what I can make of it, Mr. Fielding,” she said at last. She gave him a nod and swept regally out, Professor Flitwick following at her side.

Evan watched them go and turned back to the bed with a long, confused sigh, giving Michelle a smile that was more a sympathetic grimace. After a moment, the corners of her mouth turned up a little, her eyes still dulled and sleepy.

“You called me ‘Sweetheart’.” Her voice was a distant whisper, but it made his heart clench painfully.

_I did? When? Oh... oh yeah. Up in the corridor, that was it_._ Trying to keep her calm until help could arrive_. “Yeah,” he said, the word taking all the breath in his lungs with it. “I suppose I did.”

She still had the same, secret little smile, and blinked slowly. “Good.”

The sudden swish of robes startled him but he didn’t miss the grin on Professor Sprout’s face as she turned away. He couldn’t even find the will to be embarrassed. “Madam Pomfrey will be back soon,” he promised her.

Her smile faded and was replaced by a trace of fear. “Stay with me?”

He squeezed her hand gently. “Of course.”

Long, interminable minutes passed before the whoosh of green flame in the large fireplace at the end of the ward heralded Madam Pomfrey’s return. Professor Sprout hurried towards her.

“How is she, Poppy?”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, untying her stained apron. “They’re still working on her, but she’s stable for now, which is the most important thing - and I have work to do here. How’s Miss Taylor? Any problems?”

Professor Sprout took the matron’s elbow and ushered her towards her office. “How about you have a sit down for a few minutes while I fill you in? I’m afraid it could be a long afternoon.”

Evan watched them go, gobsmacked and rather panicky. He shook his head and turned his attention back to Michelle, “Well, I guess she’s back, but I didn’t expect her to stop for tea and biscuits! How are you holding up?”

“Hurts.”

“Still?”

“Not as bad. And you’re here,” she whispered.

He sat up a little straighter, not sure quite how to answer. It still gave him that familiar, breathless ache in his chest, but he wasn’t sure how much the painkillers had loosened her tongue. _How much will she remember when they wear off? Will she regret any of it? Will it matter?_

“You saved that girl. She’s going to be OK.”

She blinked and, after a moment, tears slowly slid down her cheeks. “Then it was worth it.”

A small, shameful part of him didn’t agree, but he did his best to squash those unkind, selfish thoughts.

He was almost surprised when the nurse’s office door clicked open again and the two women walked purposefully back to their patient.

“All right, I’m very sorry about the wait, Miss Taylor, but Miss Greenhalgh had to come first, and then I needed to understand exactly what Professor Sprout has done in my absence,” the nurse said. “We’re going to heal your arm for you, now. I’m afraid it may take some time.” She threw an apologetic glance to Evan, “And I’m sorry, but Mr. Fielding is going to have to leave.”

“No!” Michelle gasped, her grip tightening convulsively.

“Madam Pomfrey-”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fielding, but I absolutely must insist.”

The nurse’s voice was iron-firm and, feeling like the worst person alive, Evan stood uncertainly.

Michelle began to cry, clutching frantically at his hand. “No! No, no, no, no-”

“Let him go, Miss Taylor,” Professor Sprout said gently, taking their hands and starting to pry them apart. “I know you must be afraid, but there’s nothing he can do here.”

“No, no, Evan, no-”

Evan just looked at her, speechless at the desperation in her eyes and feeling sick and hollow. Her fingers slipped from his, and she cried all the harder. Professor Sprout started trying to lead him away.

“I’ll be right out here,” he said, his voice guttural. “As soon as they’re done.”

The curtain was pulled around the bed as he left under the guidance of Professor Sprout. “Mr. Fielding, I really wish we didn’t have to separate you, but believe me when I say that the best thing you can do right now is give us space to work. The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll be finished and the sooner you can see her again.”

He just stared, dazed and uncomprehending, while she guided him into a chair and hustled back through the curtain. The hospital wing was painfully silent, any noise from the bed hidden behind a silencing spell.

He dropped his head into his hands, trying to hold back the tears brimming in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it all hits the fan in this chapter! I did ponder off and on whether I can get away with this sort of serious incident in the context of a story I have tried damn hard to fit in to canon. There are some yawning chasms in the book between Fred and George's departure and the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, so I'm going to say yes and roll with it :-)


	21. Aftermath

Time crawled by in the cavernous silence of the hospital wing. He had completely lost track of how long he had sat there when a nearby voice made him jump.

“Mr. Fielding?”

His head shot up, giving him a twinge in his neck and dragging him from his bleak thoughts. Professor Sprout was standing in front of him. _How did I not even notice her coming until now?_

She smiled at him kindly. “We’re finished in here. She’s going to be fine.”

A rush of breath he didn’t know he’d been holding flooded out of him. “How is she?”

“She’s asleep for now, and likely to stay that way, I should think. The painkillers and so on would make her drowsy anyway, and the healing takes it out of you, as well. I expect that she’ll sleep until the morning.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to get a hold of his whirling thoughts. “Can I, uh-”

The Professor nodded, “Of course. Just for a moment or two, though, and then I think we’d best be getting you back to the common room.”

He followed her over to the curtained-off bed. They slipped through the curtains, and he froze when his eyes adjusted to the soft half-light and he caught sight of her. She was lying on her back, her splinted and bandaged limb resting across her belly. Her face was peaceful despite the prominent pink of the newly-healed wounds against her dark complexion, and her lips were very slightly parted.

He realised he was staring and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on his emotions. Huge, deflating relief_. Of course she’s fine, it’s only a broken arm. I’m being ridiculous. Painful, but hardly the end of the world_. Then there were those desperate brown eyes fixed on his, begging him to stay. And he hadn’t, her fingers scrabbling frantically at his as they were pulled apart. Her voice - _You called me ‘Sweetheart’_. His eyes opened and he bit his lip. He had seen her asleep before, of course, and here, she was as beautiful as always. He turned away, blowing out an unsteady breath, and ducked back out again. Madam Pomfrey was waiting nearby.

“Thank you,” he said simply, as Professor Sprout joined them.

The matron’s lips curved up slightly. “A bone-crushing curse is much more complicated than a simple break, so I’ll have to keep her in for a few days, but her recovery should be straightforward.”

“Those scars on her face?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ll give her some unction to help with those. They’ll heal fully within a week.”

“Thank you,” he said again. “I guess I should get out of your hair, then.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Mr. Fielding. For now, dinner should be starting in the Great Hall shortly.”

“But first, I would like to have a word with you in my office,” Professor Sprout said quietly. “It’s been an... extraordinary... afternoon.”

Evan nearly laughed. “I suppose it has.”

He followed his grim-faced Head of House through the corridors and down the stairs to her office, a well-lit ground-level room that looked out across the grounds towards the Herbology greenhouses. She rounded a desk covered in cuttings and potted plants between piles of students’ essays and homework and looked back over her shoulder at him. “Close the door, Mr. Fielding. Tea?”

He complied, and stood awkwardly in front of her desk. “No, thanks.”

With a distracted nod, her wand set a kettle on the side-table behind her desk bubbling while she absentmindedly lobbed a teabag into a mug. “Sit, please! You’re not in any trouble, you know.” Pouring boiling water in after it, she turned and dropped heavily into a well-won chair behind her desk, the scents of lavender and ginger wafting across the desk towards him from her mug. “Well. We have quite a situation here, Mr. Fielding, and if I’m honest, I really don’t quite know what to do next. Professor McGonagall will want to speak to you, I’m sure.” She scribbled briefly on a piece of parchment, then tapped it with his wand. Evan watched as it folded itself into a paper aeroplane and soared off her desk, bumping at the door until she let it outside. “I’ve sent her a note to find us here.”

“Maybe I should just go back to the common room and wait there?”

“I’d prefer you to wait here - for a while longer, anyway.” Professor Sprout took a thoughtful sip from her mug and sighed, “The problem I have - that _we _have - is that we have two badly injured students, an allegation against a fellow student, and no real understanding of what happened. That understanding is what Professor McGonagall is trying to gain right now, but what we absolutely cannot afford to happen is for someone to take matters into their own hands and go off at half-cock. Once we fully understand what happened and why, we can take steps to deal with the matter appropriately.”

Evan chewed his lip, his fingers picking and tearing at each other in his lap. “Then something must be seen to be done, and quickly,” he said, his voice taut with anger.

“You understand what happened, Mr. Fielding? You know exactly what went on up there?”

His eyes bored into hers. “I know enough.”

“And this is precisely what I mean! I don’t want to keep you from your friends, Mr. Fielding, but right now, they are alarmed and distressed that one of their friends has been hurt. If someone charges in and starts spitting out accusations, what do you think will happen?” she demanded, her voice starting to rise in impatience.

“Maybe it needs to happen.”

“Mr. Fielding-”

He took a deep breath and interrupted her, dragging both hands through his hair. “Professor, look. I understand what you’re saying. You need to ensure that you get it right. But at the same time, the clock is ticking. People have taken enough crap this year, and frankly, they’ve had enough. Something’s got to happen on this, and fast. People have to see that they can still trust the teachers to take care of things.”

“You don’t trust the teachers to handle this appropriately?”

He looked at her, his chest heaving, but his voice was quiet and steady when he replied. “I’d like to think so, but if nothing happens, do you really expect people to just shrug and turn away?”

“That’s not-”

“Do you? Because if you are, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Professor Sprout fiddled with her teacup nervously. “Then we’d best hope that Professor Umbridge sees sense,” she said at last.

Evan sat back and tried to relax his rigid posture. “I’m sorry, Professor, I don’t mean for it to sound like a threat, but you know as well as I do that if the teachers aren’t prepared to do something about it, then there’s enough students that will.”

“Let’s hope that Professor Umbridge sees sense, then,” she repeated after a moment. She pushed back from her desk and strode over to a tray of seedlings under the window. “Well. Perhaps while we’re waiting for Professor McGonagall, you can help me with these Fanged Geraniums.”

“Preparing for the fifth-years’ finals?”

She gave him a tentative smile, “You know I can’t possibly say - although I’m sure you remember your O.W.L.s well enough.”

It was good to have his hands in the soil again, portioning out compost and re-potting the growing plants. Avoiding the tiny teeth of the juvenile plants was second nature to him, and they were down to the last row of seedlings when there was a sharp rap at the door.

“Come in, Minerva.”

The familiar figure of the Transfiguration teacher strode into the room, and Professor Sprout lifted the completed trays back up onto the windowsill, where the Geraniums began to twist toward the light and hum happily in their new pots. “Pomona. Mr. Fielding.”

She waited while they charmed the last of the soil off their hands, and conjured a wooden chair next to Professor Sprout’s desk. When they were all seated, she began.

“Firstly, Mr. Fielding, I have to thank you for your quick actions this afternoon. I have heard accounts from a number of people, and it’s entirely possible that you saved Carrie Greenhalgh’s life.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, “I didn’t do anything other than panic when I saw her lying there. If anyone made a difference, it was Michelle, and that girl from Gryffindor.”

“Both of whom have acted equally admirably today. Miss Donaldson was the first to raise the alarm, but you calmed her down and got her story, you ensured that the younger students with you were taken to a safe place, and you ran knowingly into danger.”

“Chris was the one who found Professor Sinistra. I think.”

“He was - and he said that if it hadn’t been for your example and your clear instructions, he’d have panicked. Keeping one’s head in a crisis, giving necessary orders, and acting decisively rather than standing by. Leadership, Mr. Fielding.”

He didn’t quite know what to say to that, and just shrugged awkwardly. Thankfully, the Professor let it go.

“Now, I have heard from many of the people involved today, with the obvious exception of our two injured students, but can you please describe the incident for me in as much detail as possible.”

It seemed to take a ridiculously short period of time to recount everything. Professor McGonagall listened in silence, then had him go through it a second time.

“Now then, Mr. Fielding. Up in the Hospital Wing, you told me that Miss Taylor had named someone as her attacker.”

He swallowed. “I asked her who had done it, and she told me, ‘Warrington’. I asked if she meant Cassius Warrington, and she said, ‘Yes’.”

“I see,” she said quietly, her face a forbidding mask. After a moment, she nodded sharply and made to rise. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Fielding. I must conclude my inquiries elsewhere, but I must stress if Professor Sprout has not already that we are relying on your discretion for this incident not to escalate. We cannot tolerate people taking matters into their own hands, be that you or someone else. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Very well.”

She gave them both another firm nod and stood, Vanishing her conjured chair on the way out.

Professor Sprout let out a tired sigh. “You should return to the common room, and I need to speak to the rest of the house, as well. I’m sure by now Mr. Brady has spread the news about Miss Taylor.”

He followed her the short distance back to the Hufflepuff dorms, and took a few deep breaths while she tapped the barrels, trying to brace himself for what was to come.

The common room was packed, and when their fellow Hufflepuffs caught sight of them, they surged forward, all firing anxious questions over the top of each other.

“Is it true?”

“Is Taylor OK?”

“Who was it? Do you know?”

“Is she in the Hospital Wing?”

Professor Sprout held up her hands and shouted above the hubbub, “All right, everyone! Quiet, please! I said, quiet, please!”

The noise subsided, but Evan slipped away from her, feeling strangely claustrophobic, and tried to edge through the crowd towards the dorms. There were speckles and smears of blood on his shirt front and sleeves, and he could feel the stickiness on the knees of his trousers, and he needed to get _away_.

“As I’m sure you’ve all heard by now, there was an incident on the seventh floor this afternoon, and two students are currently receiving treatment. Miss Taylor from the seventh year is one of them, but she will make a full recovery. Madam Pomfrey will be keeping her in the Hospital Wing for the next several days to ensure that-”

He could see Tammy and Mike elbowing their way determinedly through the crowd towards him, but he stepped around Roger Stebbins and ignored Gwion and Kevin’s questioning, concerned looks, and then he was free and into the dormitory corridor. Professor Sprout’s voice wound on behind him, but he’d already heard the gist of it before and it was a relief to shut it out behind his dormitory door.

Chris looked up at him from his bed, his face troubled.

“All right, Chris?” he asked quietly.

“I should be asking you that,” he said, sitting up and clasping his hands around his knees. “How’s Michelle doing?”

The door crashed open, making them both jump. “Evan! Bloody hell, man!” Mike said impatiently.

“How’s Michelle? You were with her, right?” Tammy demanded frantically. “Is she going to be OK?”

He heard a sound from the doorway, and saw Becky looking in with Ravi and Maxi right behind her.

“She’s going to be fine,” he said shortly. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to have a wash, and-”

Tammy cut him off, “Oh, come on, Evan! Don’t leave us-”

“Tammy, I’ve still got my best mate’s blood all over me, and I need a few minutes to clean up and maybe get my head together, all right?!”

He hated that his voice wavered, but Mike swallowed and took the lead. “He’s right. Let’s just give him a few minutes, yeah? Come on, everyone, outside.”

He shooed the girls away, for all that Tammy needed to be half-dragged out by Becky, and shut the door. It was just him and Chris again.

“I know they’re worried, but I don’t blame you for wanting some time, mate,” said Chris. “I’ll disappear, if you want?”

Suddenly, the idea of having someone around that already _knew_ seemed very comforting. “No, stay. If you want. I need a shower, anyway.”

He probably didn’t really need a shower so much as a change of clothes, but there was something soothing about the hot water. He closed his eyes and stuck his face under the stream of water, scrubbing his face and hair. A sudden, vivid image of Greenhalgh’s body, blood-soaked and smoking, flashed through his mind, making him flinch, his eyes flying open again. _Merlin, that poor kid! _He found himself taking deep, gulping breaths, and tried to force his racing heart to slow down. He shivered despite the stream of hot water, and forced himself to resume washing. _I’m guessing I won’t get a lot of sleep tonight_.

He dried off and dressed quickly with whatever came to hand first, a mismatch of uniform trousers and a long-sleeved tee-shirt, and tried to brace himself to face the others who would no doubt be waiting in the dormitory. To his mild surprise, the only person in the room was Chris, now sitting on the edge of his bed.

“All right?”

“Yeah.” Evan found a pullover in his trunk, and sat on the edge of his own bed while he dragged it on. “Where are the others?”

Chris shrugged, “They’ll be along, I expect.”

He leaned forward slightly, letting his elbows rest on his knees. After a long moment, he said, “Hey, Chris, thanks a lot for what you did this afternoon. You really made the difference, you know?”

The larger boy was twisting his wand over and over in his hands, and didn’t raise his head. “All I did was find a teacher, you were the one who rescued those two.”

Evan let out a sour laugh, “The only person who rescued anyone was Michelle. It was all over by the time I got there, and I couldn’t… I was trying to work out what the hell to do next. If you hadn’t found Professor Sinistra, I’m not sure that I wouldn’t still be up there, dithering.”

“You’d have done the right thing. You _did_ do the right thing. You’re better at Defence than I am, and you’re faster, too.”

“I’m not a mediwizard, though, and Greenhalgh… Merlin’s beard.”

“Was it bad?” Chris asked tentatively. “I couldn't really see when I got up there.”

“It was bad.” He took a deep breath, “I really did think she was going to die, if she wasn’t dead already.”

“I thought it would just be the usual school fight. You know, a few tentacles, a Leg-Locker, maybe a black eye, or something. No-one could have expected that. And when that girl said one of our mates was up there…”

Evan’s chest clenched, and all the air rushed out of his lungs. “Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a little longer, neither of them moving and both lost in their thoughts, before there was a tentative tap at the door, and Ravi looked in on them.

“Hey guys. Is it OK if we come in?”

At Evan’s nod, the rest of the seventh-years filed in. Tammy went straight up to Evan and gave him a hug.

“I’m really sorry for jumping all over you like that, Evan, I was just so worried - I _am_ so worried - about Michelle.”

He slung an arm around her and squeezed. “It’s all right. I just needed a couple of minutes.”

She sat on the bed next to him, and the others stood or sat all around the room, looking at the two boys.

“So… Chris, how much did you tell them?” Evan asked, trying to work out where to start.

“As much as I could. It was probably a total mess, but, y’know, the beginning. And I knew you’d taken Michelle to the Hospital Wing with Professor Flitwick. Don’t know anything after that.”

“Are you OK to go through it again?”

He nodded, and after a moment, began to speak in his quiet, gentle voice. He explained how they’d just collected the first-years when the Gryffindor girl had appeared, and her urgent message. When he’d finished speaking, Evan could feel the eyes on him.

“I ran like hell for the stairs, and when I got to the seventh floor, I was expecting to hear something, or maybe run into someone, but it was all quiet. Deserted. By the North Tower, there’s this little side-corridor that goes to an old classroom, and…” His breath shuddered in his throat, and he tried to force himself to continue in a steady, even voice. “I saw the other girl first. There was blood-” His voice faltered, and he could feel Tammy rubbing his back soothingly. He fixed his eyes on the floor and ploughed determinedly on. “And then I saw Michelle. She was closest to the main corridor, and… I knew it was her. They were both unconscious.

“I went to Michelle first. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but she was closest, and I kept expecting someone to get the jump on me somehow. Blood all over her face, and her arm was busted, but… she woke up. I woke her up. And then I had to go to the other girl and check on her. Carrie. She’s this little Ravenclaw third-year, and the state of her… she’d been burned, and just… just _mauled_. I was wondering what the hell I could possibly do for her when I heard people running. Chris had sent Professor Sinistra up after me.”

“I bundled all the firsties into her classroom,” Chris said. “When she saw the state that Claire was in, and we explained, she was off like a champion. Then I locked the door and went up after her. I ran into a few others on the way, and spread the word. Lee Jordan’s faster than he looks, isn’t he?”

“She went over to Carrie, and called for Madam Pomfrey. I don’t know what she did, but… I went back to Michelle. I just tried to keep her calm and patch her up as best I could. Madam Pomfrey made good time, but she had to deal with Carrie, obviously. Professor Flitwick came up, and he helped me take Michelle to the Hospital Wing.”

There was a long silence. “Is… is Carrie going to be OK?” Mike asked.

“Apparently. Madam Pomfrey took her straight to St. Mungo’s.” His face twisted in a humourless smile, “Umbridge was there. Professor Sprout had made it to the Hospital Wing and was trying to look after Michelle when Umbridge barged in and was her usual, interfering, incompetent self. Then Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall brought Carrie up on a stretcher, and she tried to get in their way. Madam Pomfrey called her a bloody fool right to her face, and barged straight past her, into the floo.”

“And Michelle? What about Michelle?” Tammy asked, almost in a whisper.

Evan took a deep, steadying breath. “She was cursed. Some fancy thing that cut up her face and scalp, and a bone-crushing curse on her arm. Maybe a few other things that Professor Flitwick sorted out. Madam Pomfrey took care of her arm. She’s sleeping, now. Madam Pomfrey said she’ll keep her in for a few days. Maybe a week.”

“Oh, Evan!”

Tammy hugged him again, and then went over to Chris and did the same. Feeling numb, he got a slap on the back from Ravi.

“She’ll be back before ya know it, mate,” Mike said in a subdued voice, while his girlfriend clapped Chris on the shoulder.

“An’ it’s thanks to both of ya, Chris.”

That left them all looking awkwardly at each other, no one wanting to ask the obvious question. Finally, Becky broke the silence.

“So. Who was it? D’you know?”

Evan looked away. “I heard a name. Professor McGonagall is investigating, but she and Professor Sprout both made it very clear that I’m not supposed to say anything and let them deal with it. They especially don’t want anyone starting anything.”

“Any hints? Trust me, no-one will know it came from you,” Maxi said, scowling darkly.

“I don’t like it either, but I suppose they’re probably right.” He looked around his friends. “I said that I’d give them some time, but something had better happen fast. This one isn’t going to go away or be swept under the carpet.”

“Bloody right, it’s not!” she spat angrily. “Umbridge won’t get away with her usual, one-eyed bollocks! Come on, Evan, we can all see it must be a Slytherin, who is it?! Bletchley? Warrington?”

“Maxi-” Mike began.

“Don’t you make excuses for the bastards, Mike!”

“I’m not, me love, of course I’m not. But if it’s McGonagall asking for time, then it’s time she’ll get, as far as I’m concerned. Not forever, Evan’s right about that, but we’ve got to at least give her a chance, or we’re no better than a mob ourselves.”

She glared at him, but after a moment, it softened. “Not forever is right. Ya’ll not keep quiet if nothing happens, though, will ya, Evan?”

“Not a chance.”

“And Professor Sprout was saying the same thing about letting them deal with it, out in the common room,” Ravi reminded them.

Mike chewed the inside of his cheek, looking between Chris and Evan. “Are you two OK with us all in here?” he asked quietly. “If ya want some more time and peace, we’ll leave ya be. Or dinner must be starting, I suppose.”

Evan gave him a wan, forced smile. “You go on ahead. I really don’t feel like eating, right now.”

“Me, either,” Chris added quietly.

It was a very quiet group of Hufflepuffs that filed out, leaving Chris and Evan to their thoughts.

* * * * *

Evan gave up on sleep not long after dawn, exhausted, and fed-up. He dragged himself out to the common room and, bizarrely, nearly fell asleep there until Hannah Abbot and Megan Jones stepped out of their dorm, talking loudly, and jolted him awake. It was hard to resist a scowl at the two fifth-years, even if he knew it wasn’t their fault and they weren’t doing anything wrong. Instead, he went back to his dorm and showered, hoping it might help perk him up. Mike was sitting up in bed and watched him with concern while he dressed, but his Irish friend said little other than ‘Good morning’ and let him be. Slowly, he gathered up his Transfiguration textbook and his notes in preparation for class, and then went back to the common room to wait for the others.

At breakfast, despite not really wanting to eat, he was ravenously hungry, and demolished a second helping of scrambled egg. All the while, he was acutely aware of the absence next to him. He and Michelle ate separately often enough and usually that was fine, but this time he was hypersensitive to her absence. Chris was looking better rested but he was very quiet, and barely had he sat down than Trish was there from the Gryffindor table, giving him a hug and whispering gently to him. Their friends made space for her, trying to make her welcome whilst still letting the two have at least a semblance of a private discussion. Evan watched with a pang of wistfulness and pride at their closeness.

As for Evan himself, it wasn’t long before he was besieged by angry-faced Ravenclaws, all demanding to know more about what had happened to Carrie Greenhalgh. The Hogwarts rumour mill had spread the story of his involvement like wildfire, and there was little doubt that they were itching to avenge their housemate’s honour.

“I’m sorry, I can’t say anything about that.”

“Madam Pomfrey said she’ll be fine.”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask the nurse.”

“Please, I can’t say.”

Professor Flitwick quickly came down from the high table to rescue him, but although the Ravenclaws respected their Head of House enough to leave Evan alone, the dark looks they cast in his direction assured him that they would be back the second he was out of the Professor’s sight. Roger Davies was doing the rounds of the tables, and he was the next to stop by.

“All right, Evan? Sorry about the mob, there.”

He summoned a smile. “It’s all right. Believe me, I’d like to tell them, but I promised Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick that I’d leave it with them.”

“I understand,” said Roger, with a hard smile. “Any hints you feel like dropping, though, you know where to find me.” He glanced around the rest of the Hufflepuffs. “How’s Michelle doing, do you know?”

“She’s going to be fine. She was pretty badly beaten up, but Madam Pomfrey sorted her out.”

There was a short silence. “You must be feeling absolutely sick, mate,” Roger said, in a low, sympathetic voice. “I’m sure she’ll be back and fit as a fiddle again soon. Just hang in there, all right? I’ll try to get my lot to leave you the hell alone.”

“Thanks, Roger.”

“Tell her everyone says ‘Hi’, and ‘Get well soon’. I’ll drop in and see her later, if I’m not intruding.”

“I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you.” He summoned a weak smile, “You welcome any distraction if you’re locked up in the hospital wing.”

Roger grinned, and clapped him on the shoulder. “As for everyone else, try to keep on with the patrolling in the corridors and taking the youngsters to class, but I want to make sure a couple of you stick with Evan. Don’t let the Goon Squad wind him up.” He threw an apologetic glance at Evan, “I think today’s going to be pretty lively, so keep your wands to hand and your wits about you.”

“Aye, nae bother,” said Maxi bleakly. “We’ll be ready for ‘em, have no fear.”

There was a brief pause. “Maxi, I don’t-”

“We heard ya, Roger,” Mike said, cutting across him. “I know ya have ter say it. We’ll not go lookin’ fer trouble.”

“Then I’d better hope that trouble doesn’t find you.”

The second cup of coffee wasn't working, but the third cup was a mistake. He was still every bit as tired, but now he was jittery and his hands shook, and his tired mind raced from one thing to another, never quite settling for long enough to properly concentrate. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall made no comment at his atrocious showing in class, although her stern, disappointed look, was almost worse than words.

Somehow, he stumbled through the rest of the morning in a haze of exhaustion before plodding back to the Great Hall for lunch. He quickly threw some cold chicken and coleslaw into a bun and stood up again, only for Mike to grab his sleeve.

“Hey! An’ where d’you think yer off to?”

“I’ve got some things I’ve got to do,” he said quietly.

His friends exchanged a look, and Mike pushed back from the table himself.

“You don’t have to go with me.”

“Yeah, I do. Fer my own peace of mind if not fer yours.”

“An’ I’m comin’ with ya, too,” said Maxi, getting to her feet, as well.

“Maxi-”

“C’mon, Evan. You’d do the same, ya know it.”

He looked between his friends, and then his shoulders slumped a little and he turned to go. “If you must, then.”

They followed him to the seventh floor, where he paused for a moment to take a deep, steadying breath, before setting off for the North Tower. The upper floor was deserted, and their footsteps echoed strangely along the corridor as he forced himself to walk its whole length to the foot of the spiral staircase that led to Professor Trelawney’s classroom, very deliberately not looking into the side-corridor where he had found… the scene. There were signs of life at the foot of the spiral stairs - a few cushions, some scraps of paper and tissue on the floor, the nub of a broken quill wedged between two flagstones. Someone had probably been using the place as a quiet spot, a sanctuary to hide away from the madness breaking out in the castle below. No one came up here unless it was for Divination, and with that class now being held on the ground floor, it would be entirely peaceful.

He turned and retraced his steps, walking slowly this time and scanning the floors, the walls, even the ceilings. What he was looking for, he didn’t know. _Something_. Mike and Maxi followed him in silence, staying a few paces behind him. Annoyed as he was that they were shadowing him, he was glad that they were letting him do what he needed to do with out interrupting - and very grateful that his friends were only a few paces away.

Talking to portraits was an exercise in patience. The daft little knight in the large portrait at the head of the stairs was no use, either uttering outlandish threats or cursing at a supremely indifferent, fat, grey pony that grazed in his portrait. The wolfhound in the next portrait looked more intelligent than the knight but couldn’t speak. Gradually, he worked his way along the walls, trying to find the ones that paid attention, trying to find the ones that had some concept of time. Many frames were empty, their usual occupants bored at the isolation and seeking more interaction around the castle. Fragments, snippets… frustration.

He briefly got his hopes up when talking to a portrait of an elderly man seated behind a huge, green-topped desk. His bald head bulged between two tiny, almost forgotten wisps of hair over his ears, and he gazed regally out over the top of half-moon glasses that slouched at half-mast on a long, aristocratic nose. “Yes. Yes, I do remember. A boy, I think. Yes,” he said, in a surprisingly spry, jolly voice that wobbled his fleshy jowls.

“Do you know which house he was from?”

The portrait rubbed his chin with a long, ink-stained index finger. “Err… Hufflepuff! That’s it, Hufflepuff, I’m sure.”

_Hufflepuff? _“That’s very helpful, thank you. What did he look like?” Evan said patiently.

“Oh, tall. Big chap, looked rather fierce. Blond, I seem to remember. He was in a tearing hurry.”

Evan’s heart sank. _I should have known better_. “It was me, wasn’t it?”

The portrait blinked, and removed its glasses to peer at him a little more closely. There was an awkward silence, and he shuffled some paper ostentatiously on his desk and cleared his throat. “You know, I _thought _you looked a little familiar.”

Evan needed a few deep breaths at that point, but resisted the urge to swear.

“Evan? Come on, mate, ya need to eat,” Mike prompted him gently. “You’ve still not had lunch yet.”

He gave him a small, mechanical smile. _How to explain that I don’t remotely feel like eating? Not up here. But he’s right, this is getting me nowhere_. He steeled himself, and walked to the side-corridor where he had found the injured girls.

The corridor looked almost offensively innocent. The walls had been scrubbed to remove the blood, leaving clean patches slightly lighter than the surrounding stone, while the floor had been mopped in wide, sweeping strokes that had dried leaving the faintest residue of detergents on the flags to glisten in the light. He didn't have to close his eyes to see the shadows of Michelle and Carrie’s bodies burnt into his retinas like the after-image of a bright flash, and his nostrils tingled with the memories of blood and burning.

A hand gently took his arm. “That’s enough. Come away, now.”

Maxi led him back to the landing at the top of the stairs, and he didn’t resist. His two Irish friends sat him on the top step with themselves on either side of him. Maxi reached into his bag and pulled out the slap-dash sandwich that he’d wrapped up in a napkin earlier.

“I really don’t feel like eating, Maxi.”

“Ya need somethin’ ter keep ya going,” said Mike, holding out a bar of chocolate instead. “Try this.”

“Thanks.” It was completely unappealing to him, but he knew they meant well, and tore open the wrapper anyway. It was hard not to stop his thoughts going back to the little corridor, now so clean and ordinary again.

“I’d have thought you’d have been ter see her instead of comin’ up here.”

Maxi’s voice dragged him out of his reverie, and he was surprised to find that he’d demolished the whole bar. With a mental shrug, he balled up the wrapper and jammed it in his bag.

“I will. Later. After class. I wanted to do this first.

Maxi and Mike exchanged a look. “What were ya hopin’ ter find, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Something. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel like I let her down, somehow.”

“Evan-”

“I know. I still do, though.”

Mike glanced at his watch, and then there was one of those wordless couples’ conversations in looks and expressions and tiny head movements with his girlfriend. He stood up and patted Evan on the shoulder, walking a few steps down the stairs before turning and looking back at them. “We ought ter be headin’ back down. Assuming yer coming, o’ course?”

He summoned a reassuring smile. “I suppose I’d better, hadn’t I?”

Mike nodded and set off ahead of them, but Maxi stayed at his side, watching him intently. “Somewhere, somehow, you two need ter talk t’each other,” she said, very softly. It didn’t take an Unspeakable to work out what she was on about. “I know yers-”

The bell to announce the start of the afternoon’s classes came to his rescue, much to Maxi’s obvious annoyance, but thankfully she let it drop. Evan took a deep breath and let it out slowly before starting down the stairs. _Merlin, I don’t deserve friends like these_.

“Guys? Just… thanks.”

* * * * *

Charms was his second-to-last class of the day, and even better for his purposes, it was a practical lesson. Professor Flitwick was pretty relaxed about how they worked together so long as they worked, and that meant he could find his quarry at the front of the classroom, as always.

Gabriel looked up from his seat and gave Evan a twisted smile. “I should have known to expect you. How is she?”

“She’s going to be all right. She was very lucky,” Evan said tightly.

Gabriel just nodded and gestured at the seat next to him. When Evan had seated himself, they set to work. Around them, the level of conversation was low but steady.

“You might as well ask,” Gabriel pointed out coolly, consulting his textbook and then critically evaluating his wand movements.

“All I want is a name, Gabriel.”

“And you’re going to do what with it?”

“That depends.”

“That depends on what?” Gabriel said cagily, giving Evan a sidelong look as if to evaluate his mood.

_That evil bitch, Umbridge_. He took a deep breath before replying. “The teachers, mainly. Michelle gave me a name, all I want to do is confirm it.”

“If Taylor gave you a name, then you already know,” Gabriel pointed out. “Why are you asking me?”

“I want to be sure, that’s all. I’ll be asking others as well. I thought maybe you could help me out.”

“You say she already told you. How sure do you need to be?”

“It never hurts to have some confirmation. Try pulling back a little on that second twist, there.”

“Thanks. You realise you’re asking me when Bletchley and Pucey are in the far corner watching every move we make.”

“So are Donna Robards and Liz Nott. What’s your point?”

“My point is, if you now do something tiresomely chivalrous in defence of your fair maiden’s honour, it’s not exactly going to be difficult to work out where you got it from, is it?” Gabriel pointed out with an edge to his voice. “Half the bloody class is rubbernecking at us, not just my house mates!”

“They’d probably assume that anyway, so what does it matter?” Evan replied steadily.

Gabriel shook his head with an annoyed sigh. “Well, it’s too bloody late now, I suppose.”

“Like I said, all I want is a name, Gabriel.”

“Then think before you just roll up to me in front of everyone, damn it!” Gabriel hissed angrily. “I might like you, Evan, but I don’t want to get what Taylor got any more than she did!” With that, he turned pointedly away.

Evan took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to rein in his temper. He hadn’t meant to, but it was a shock to realise how relentlessly he was pressuring Gabriel. Another deep breath, and he tried to focus on his Charms work.

They worked in near-silence for the rest of the lesson, speaking only to point out some crucial element or other of their task. Professor Flitwick gave the class a five-minute warning to pack up and return to their seats, and in the midst of the general hubbub that this always entailed, he nearly missed Gabriel mutter a single word.

“Warrington.”

He forced himself not to react, and continued jamming things back in his bag. “Warrington. Well, well,” he said in the same, almost inaudible tone. “Thanks Gabriel.”

The only response was a scowl, so he retreated to his usual desk and scribbled down Professor Flitwick’s homework instructions.

He tried to ignore the curious looks from his housemates, who had paired off together, and at the bell, he strode purposefully for the door.

“Hey, wait up, Evan!” Tammy called after him.

He slouched back against the corridor wall, watching carefully as Bletchley, Nott, and Halkett walked past for the first flash of a wand. None came, and instead his friends gathered around him.

“All right, Evan?” Chris said.

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s not hang around here.” He pushed off the wall and led the way towards the Grand Staircase, the others falling in by his side.

“So, did Engel have anything interesting to say?” Ravi asked carefully.

“Maybe.”

“Uh-huh. And where are ya taking yerself off to now?” Mike asked, exchanging an inscrutable glance with his girlfriend.

“The hospital wing.”

“Really? What about Defence?”

He shrugged impatiently, and set off along the corridor. “Tell Umbridge I’ve got Umbridge-itis, it’s not like half the class won’t be doing that anyway. Michelle must be bored out of her mind, and Flitwick gave me a load of stuff for her from class.”

“Gee, mate, ya really know how to give a girl a good time, don’t ya?” Mike sniggered. “I mean, she might be bored, but I doubt she’s bored enough to be pining for homework!”

“Might be a few other things she’s pining for, though” Maxi said with a grin.

Despite his impatience, he smiled at his friends’ teasing. “Yeah, like her friends. If you lot are dead set on suffering through Defence, are you at least visiting after?”

The others exchanged a look. “Uh, actually, Evan, we might be a while. Mike and I have got to... um... Quidditch,” Maxi said lamely.

Becky was biting her lip to keep from laughing, but Tammy had no such restraint.

“Yeah, Becky and I have to Quidditch, too!” Ravi snickered.

Becky gently kicked Chris’ ankle, and he said, “Err... incredibly, so do I.”

He stopped at the end of the corridor to the hospital wing and looked enquiringly around his friends, but Tammy, still laughing, just waved him on. Evan shook his head in amusement. “Right. See you later, I guess.”

He’d only taken a few steps when he heard the others burst out laughing behind him. “Smooth, Maxi, _really_ smooth!”

“Yeah, well what about the rest of yers...”

He was still grinning when he slipped through the doors to the hospital wing. Michelle would be fine, he knew that, but that didn’t mean his stomach wasn’t in knots. He found her lying in a hospital bed under the windows, looking monumentally bored as she stared out across the rain-swept grounds. She looked around at the sound of his feet, and her face lit up with a warm smile when she saw him.

“Hiya, Evan!” she said softly.

He hesitated, caught in two minds about what he should do next, until she solved the question for him by holding up her good arm expectantly. He quickly sat on the edge of her bed and leaned down to scoop her up into a hug, and he felt all the tension in his stomach unwind at the strength in her warm arms and the familiar scents of orange and jasmine, and the silky feel of her hair against his cheek. He closed his eyes, and hugged her tighter.

* * * * *

_Safe_. He smelled faintly of apple shampoo, and peppermint, and a tiny hint of sweat, and pure tiredness, and just… _him_. His jumper was soft and warm with his body heat, but it did nothing to disguise the feel of the muscle in his back and shoulders under her hands. His embrace was absolute certainty that as long as it lasted, everything would be all right. He smelled of home. He _felt _like home.

A tiny, blissful eternity later, his firm grip slackened, and she reluctantly let him go, too.

“How’re you doing?” he asked, sliding into the chair by her bedside.

She scowled grumpily, “Sick of this damn headache, and sick of being stuck in bed.”

“You’re lucky that it’s only a headache. How’s your arm?”

She held up her bandaged limb and wriggled the fingers. “Sore. And that Skele-Gro stuff tastes absolutely _vile_!”

He chuckled, patting her shoulder. “Aww, poor Shelley!”

She batted her eyelashes and stuck her lower lip out as far as she could, a picture of comic woe. “I know!”

He grinned at her, warmth dancing in his eyes. _And... love? God, I need to _do_ something, sort this out for once and for all-_

“Are you going to be stuck here much longer, d’you think?”

His voice jolted her back to the present. “Oh Merlin, I hope not!” Her eyes darted guiltily in the direction of the matron’s office for a moment. “With luck, I think Madam Pomfrey might let me out early next week, some time. It’s sort of a combination of my arm and some of the other things, apparently. I had a bit of a fever earlier, too.” She realised abruptly that his hand was still resting on her shoulder, and felt her face heat up. He didn’t seem to notice, however, looking at her in concern.

“You’re all right now? I can go, if you want.”

She summoned a bright smile, and tried to force the blood out of her cheeks. “No, I’m fine. Better… um, you know what I mean.” Hurriedly, she changed tack. “I hope there hasn’t been too much going on in class.”

“Yeah, ‘cos I bet you’re just pining for Potions and Transfig!”

Just the mention of the two toughest classes on her schedule made her groan, her head falling back on the pillows. “I had loads of stuff planned out for revision this weekend, and I was going to help the fifth-years again on Potions, too. I really don’t want to have a bunch of classes to catch up on as well.”

He squeezed her shoulder, then let go, and the skin where his hand had been prickled at the loss of warmth. “Well, Chris can help with the Potions stuff, and I’m sure the rest of us can pitch in as well. You’ll be all right.”

“And I suppose I can revise just as well from here,” she said reluctantly, sitting up again.

“Just let me know what you want brought up. The others will help, too.” He grinned at her, “Lucky you, eh? Waited on hand and foot!”

That made her laugh. “Careful, I might start to get ideas!”

He chuckled along with her, but she could see the exhaustion dragging at his shoulders and starting to etch itself on his face.

“Hey. Are you all right? You look knackered.”

His good humour faded. “Yeah. I just didn’t sleep much, last night,” he said quietly.

“Was it…? I guess it must have been pretty bad,” she said tentatively, watching him carefully. He couldn’t meet her eyes, staring at the bed by her shoulder, instead.

“Pretty bad, yeah. Awful, actually.” He took a deep, rallying breath, “But you’re OK, now, and you’re going to be fine.”

“Thanks to you,” she whispered, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

“Thanks to Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick, really.” He took another deep breath, “Look, this is probably the wrong way to say it and I don’t mean anything negative, but why were you up there? Especially on your own?”

She shivered, her hand sliding off his. “A couple of the third-year girls were missing when Becky and I went to collect them. Someone said that they’d been using the spot by Trelawney’s classroom as a safe hideout. Now that Trelawney’s not teaching any more, no one would be going up there, right? Except maybe her, so there’d be no one around.”

“It’d make a great spot to be away from everyone, yeah. On your own, though?”

She shrugged awkwardly. “It didn’t seem like a very big deal, you know? I thought I’d just run up there and check, it was only going to be a few minutes. And when I got there, uh-”

His arms gently wrapped around her again. Judging by the tremor in his voice, perhaps it was for his benefit as much as hers. “It’s OK. It’s OK. I’m just so glad you’re safe, now.”

She was more than glad of the excuse to return his hug and sink back into that blissful feeling of floating serenity once again, but all too soon it was over, leaving them looking at each other. His blue eyes were so close, and she could almost feel the charge running between them for a long moment before he straightened up. He rubbed at one eye with the palm of his hand, muttering, “Sorry,” rather gruffly.

“It’s OK.” She bit her lip and added, “I wasn’t kidding earlier, actually, you look absolutely wiped out.”

He grimaced tiredly. “I feel it, too.”

“Go and have an early dinner, then get some sleep. You need it.”

For a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but backed down without a fuss. “Maybe I will. And it’s the weekend, tomorrow, so I can sleep in.” He paused, before adding, “I feel a bit rubbish, abandoning you here when it’s you that’s been banged up.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Evan. I’ll be fine.”

“I think the others will be up to see you soon, anyway. D’you want them to bring you anything?”

“If you can ask Becky to bring me a bag with a change of nightclothes and things, that’d be great. And maybe a book, or something, too.”

He levered himself to his feet, stretching his tall frame and suppressing a yawn. “Consider it done. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

She smiled softly up at him. “G’night,”

“‘Night, Michelle. Sleep well.”


	22. Surface Tension

Evan made it until shortly after dinner, then retreated to his dorm, drew the hangings around his bed, and crashed out. He vaguely remembered half-waking a few times during the night, but not why. Whatever it was, he had been tired enough to immediately drop back off to sleep again afterwards.

He awoke the next morning with a deep ache in his shoulders and back, like he’d slept in one position all night and half-fossilised in that shape. Reluctantly, he eased himself upright and rested for a moment with his feet on the floor, trying to stretch the kinks out. He could hear someone in the shower, and so he skipped a wash and dragged on some clothes before stumbling out to the common room. A few people were up and about, and it was difficult to miss Chris’ huge form wedged into a nearby armchair with a Potions textbook on his lap. He was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and the depth of his concentration gave the impression that he had been there for some time.

“Morning,” he mumbled on the way past, not really meaning to disturb him, before flopping into a chair opposite him.

Chris blinked and looked up, surfacing from the land of tinctures and essences and strange brews. “Oh. Morning, Evan.”

“You must’ve been up early.” Just the words made him want to yawn.

Chris stretched in his seat and flipped his textbook closed, balancing it on the arm of his chair. “Yeah. I sort of woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I thought I may as well try to use the time productively.”

“Fair enough.” He hesitated, then added, “How are you doing, Chris? We haven’t really talked that much since Thursday night.”

He shrugged. “It’s OK. I’m doing all right, I think. And you’ve had other things to worry about.”

Evan grimaced in apology. “Still, I feel like I should’ve talked to you more, yesterday.”

“I had Trish to talk to, and the others, too, if I needed it.” He stared into the middle distance for a moment, then looked up at Evan. “You’ve been caught up with Michelle, so it’s not like you’ve just forgotten the whole thing.”

He almost wished he could, but changed the subject slightly instead. “You and Trish really seem to be working out together.”

Chris coloured, and couldn’t hide a small, pleased smile. “She’s awesome.” He shook his head and added, “Although sometimes I wonder what on earth she sees in me.”

“What the rest of us do, at a guess. You’ve never given yourself enough credit, Chris, you’re a good bloke.”

Chris grinned through his embarrassment. “It’s a good job Ravi can’t hear you now.”

Evan laughed, “Yeah. And then Becky would have to go and turn him into something embarrassing.”

“Who says I can’t hear you? And who says I’m embarrassed?” They both turned guiltily, to see Ravi watching them with amusement, his hands on his hips. He was already dressed and shaved, his hair immaculately styled. “Chris, he’s right. And as for Becky, she’d be bored without someone to take things out on, every now and then, and then who knows what she’d get up to.”

“That’s very public-spirited of you, mate,” Evan said, with a chuckle.

Ravi grinned in response, “Anyway, speaking of the human locust - breakfast?”

“Might as well, I suppose. Where’s the Snogger-in-Chief?” he asked, as they set off the Great Hall.

Ravi shrugged, “Still in bed, as presumably is the Chief Snoggee. No sign of Tammy yet, Chris?”

“Not that I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, and good luck getting Becky out of bed this early on a weekend. Looks like it’s just us for now.”

The Great Hall was about a third full, the usual quotient of the fully-dressed and ready for anything mixing with the barely-alive and still in their dressing gowns that weekends often brought. They found seats at the near end of the Hufflepuff table and set about full fry-ups, talking casually about nothing very much.

“How’s Divination going, Ravi? Have you been able to scry for your N.E.W.T. mark?” Chris asked idly, digging into a poached egg perched on a slice of black pudding.

“Ha! Outstanding, of course! How could it be anything else?”

“And so humble!” chuckled Evan. “Let’s see how that prediction holds up in a month or two’s time.”

Ravi just sniffed, “As if there could be any doubt.”

“Any other hot tips on the future?” said Chris. “How does our beloved Defence teacher get run out of town this year?”

Ravi swallowed, and shrugged, reaching for a glass of orange juice. “Dunno. Ravaged by a herd of wild animals, probably.”

“Merlin, my sympathies to the animals. I hope they don’t catch anything nasty,” grumbled Leah Harper, taking a seat next to Evan. “All right, guys?”

The doors to the Great Hall were thrown open and bounced off their stops with an attention-getting boom. A large group of Slytherins sauntered in, most of the Inquisitorial Squad and their hangers-on, all talking and laughing merrily. At the centre of their attention was Cassius Warrington, who strutted in looking smugly delighted, and Evan felt an ugly surge of hatred that he had trouble choking down. It nearly overwhelmed him when Warrington looked over and caught his eye and waved merrily, his grin widening, like they were best of friends. _Bastard, bastard, bastard, _bastard!

With shaking hands, Evan forced himself to shovel another slice of sausage into his mouth as if things were normal, as if this was just another, ordinary day of house rivalry. It tasted like bitterness and bile and ash. _It’s not a coincidence that he sits on that side, where he can watch me, is it? Is it deliberate that he wants me to know he’s there? It bloody must be. What the hell is wrong with him that he could do that to two people and then be delighted about it, to revel in it like this? How the hell can he live with himself?_

“So when are we going to kill Warrington?”

Evan’s head jerked up guiltily, his eyes darting to Ravi. “Eh?”

Ravi rolled his eyes, “Oh, come off it, Evan, he’s been making sure you know he’s here and you’ve been burning him to cinders with your eyes in return. We’re not blind, here!”

_Oh, bollocks_. He looked around, and yes, there were a number of people watching the two of them - especially at the Ravenclaw table. Disconcerted, he swore under his breath, and decided to say nothing. _After all, I did promise Professor McGonagall. But if other people want to make assumptions, that’s not my fault, is it?_ He focused on his plate and scooped up another forkful of breakfast, not caring what. Thankfully, he was saved by the arrival of a lone post owl.

“Hey, isn't that Rascal?” said Chris, and sure enough, the familiar, handsome barn owl was gliding across to their table.

Evan held up his arm, and Michelle’s owl settled onto it with a flurry of beating wings, before sticking out a leg expectantly. “It’s not exactly a surprise, is it?” he said, as he untied the letter.

_ Evan Fielding & Michelle Taylor_

_ Hogwarts_

He spent a few minutes making a fuss of Rascal before he flew off to the Owlery to rest. The distraction also meant that Evan’s attention didn’t dwell on the envelope carelessly torn open and re-stuffed, nor the ‘Passed by Hogwarts Inquisition’ scrawled on one side in red ink. The casual violation of their privacy by the likes of Warrington and his chums would only get his temper up.

_ 26 May 96_

_ Dear Evan,_

_ We received Professor Sprout’s owl this morning, telling us that Michelle has been hurt. While she was unable to _

_ provide much detail in her letter, we understand that Michelle is healing well and recovering in the hospital wing._

_ Would you please pass on the enclosed letter to her, and help her with any reply?_

_ We would love to hear from both of you as soon as you can._

_ Love,_

_ Alan & Anisha_

That left several folded sheets that he slid back into the envelope and tucked into his pocket.

“From her parents?” Ravi asked.

He nodded, pushing his mostly-empty plate away. Further eating felt impossible. “Yeah. I’ll take it up to her, I think.”

Chris and Ravi exchanged looks. “D’you want us to come-” started Chris, with a quick, sidelong glance at the Slytherin table.

“It’s OK. At least we know where the bastards are, for now. Thanks, though.”

“Say ‘Hi’ from everyone, won’t you?” said Leah.

“Will do.”

He tried to ignore the fresh burst of merriment from the Slytherins when he got to his feet and set off purposefully for the hospital wing, but his temper was well and truly smouldering by the time the noise faded behind him.

Madam Pomfrey was bustling around purposefully, but paused to give him a sharp nod of welcome. “Mr. Fielding. I think Miss Taylor will be very grateful for some company, about now.” There was an outbreak of barking from one of the beds behind her, and she glanced back over her shoulder. “If you two can sit quietly together, I have things I need to attend to.”

He thanked her and made his way to the now-familiar hospital bed. Its curtains were pulled as usual to give her some privacy. _Well, Madam Pomfrey did imply that she was awake._

“Michelle? Letter for you.”

He was already in the process of stepping through the curtains when he heard a yelp of “Don’t come in!”, and did a quick _volte-face_.

“Sorry! Are you decent?”

“Yeah, but… um…”

“What’s going on?”

She didn’t answer. He waited a few seconds, then decided she’d had long enough to cover up if she needed to, and cautiously stepped through to her bedside. Michelle was sitting on top of the covers, her legs bent and her body hunched forward over her thighs. Her nightshirt was stained with huge, dark circles, and her face and exposed limbs were dripping sweat. Strands of flyaway, unkempt hair clung to her greenish-looking cheeks, and she looked thoroughly tired and miserable.

“Merlin, are you-” he broke off, feeling panic rising. “Damn it, wait there, I’ll get Madam Pomfrey-”

“She already knows,” Michelle said quietly. “It’s OK, she gave me something just now. I just have to wait.”

He forced himself to stop, to take a deep breath and try to unclench the massive knot in his stomach. “This is why she kept you in, isn’t it?”

She shrugged, and didn’t look up at him, closing her eyes and letting her head rest on her knees. He could only watch in helpless frustration.

“Damn it, ‘Chelle.”

With a sigh, he perched on the edge of her bed and rubbed her back slowly, the heat rising off her like a furnace through the thin, damp cotton of her nightshirt. That got a sleepy purr of thanks and… pleasure? _Not that I’m reading anything into that, of course_. But his hands itched to seek beneath the wet cloth, to peel away the interfering material and find the connection of skin on skin. He could see her shirt clinging to the side of her breast, the fabric pulled taut between her torso and her long, slender leg, and he felt a twinge of shame for noticing, especially when she was sick.

“S’nice.”

Her voice was a tired whisper, and he felt a sharp, almost physical, twist in his chest. What he wanted was to gather her close, to pull her to him and kiss her and make everything right. Instead, he settled for the inadequacy of what he was doing, long, slow, soothing circles. Neither of them spoke, just letting the long, empty minutes drift away.

“You’ll put me to sleep.”

He had lost track of time until her words, soft and drowsy, startled him back to the present. Her back felt cooler under his palm, and he let his hand drop.

“That mightn’t be a bad thing, you look exhausted.”

She sat up and stretched, and that triggered a huge yawn. “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she admitted.

“Nightmares?”

She nodded, trying to gather her hair and pull it back off her face with a grimace of distaste. “Ugh. I must look terrible,” she muttered distractedly, her eyes searching the bedside table fruitlessly for a hair tie. With a shrug, she let it tumble loose down her back.

“Well, you look a bit less green, now,” he said diplomatically.

“I feel a bit less green, too.” She reached up and felt her own forehead. “It’s not that bad after the fever goes. I’ve just woken up with it a couple of times, now. Madam Pomfrey says it should clear up in a day or two.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve run a race. Sticky, gross, and absolutely knackered.”

“Maybe go and have a shower, it might make you feel better.”

“Good idea.”

He slid off her bed to give her room, and she held out her good hand to him to provide a safe hold while she swung her feet onto the floor and stood up. She quickly grabbed a change of clothes and padded out to the bathroom. He heard the swift sound of Madam Pomfrey’s shoes and then her voice, low and brisk. Seconds later, she popped her head through the curtains and gestured him to follow, and he did.

She snapped her fingers and spoke to the empty air, then turned to him. “Lumpy - a full change, please. Now, Mr. Fielding, I’m glad Miss Taylor had some company just now, but she really does need to rest.”

“I know. She looks really wrung out. I won’t stay long, just until she’s settled. Uh, about that fever-”

“There’s nothing to be alarmed about, it’s relatively common. Some people have a mild reaction to Skele-Gro, and that’s what you were seeing. I think the healing of her arm is well-advanced enough by now that she won’t need a further dose.”

“Is there anything that can help her sleep?” he asked tentatively.

The nurse clearly didn’t miss his meaning. “If she doesn’t sleep today, I’ll give her something tonight that will do the trick.”

“Thanks.”

She bustled off, leaving him to retreat to Michelle’s bedside and sink onto the hard, wooden chair to wait for her. With an irritated frown, he got up momentarily to renew the cushioning charm.

Michelle returned about ten minutes later, washed and changed and with her still-wet hair wrapped up in a towel.

“You’re looking better.”

She smiled warmly at him, but her dark eyes were tired and drooping. “I feel a bit better, too. I just need to do my hair.”

A minute with her wand sorted that out, and she set her wand on the bedside table before looking at him, looking at the freshly made-up bed, and settling for a halfway option of sitting on the bed with her legs dangling.

“The nurse told me that I should let you get some sleep.”

She shrugged. “Probably. You said something about a letter?”

He fished around in his pocket and handed it over. She glanced at the address and, with a rueful twitch of her lip, opened it and quickly scanned through it. “It’s from Mum. Hopes I’m OK, be more careful, remember to rest, listen to Madam Pomfrey, study hard, not long now, eat my greens, all that sort of thing.” She looked over at him and smiled. “I’m supposed to listen to you, too, apparently.”

He summoned a weak smile. “Have I been mothering?”

“Only a little.”

“Sorry. Anyway, Rascal’s here, and she asked us both to write back. I can send something with him tonight, if you like.” He paused, some of the good humour draining away. “And maybe we can get Chris or Tammy or someone to send _another_ letter from Hogsmeade next weekend.”

She caught his drift. “I’ll write something for her later, for now. You don’t mind being postmaster for me?”

“Of course not.”

She smiled, but it quickly turned into another huge yawn, and she refolded her letter carefully and set it on her bedside table.

“Are you gonna be all right?” he asked her softly.

She nodded, but her eyes were locked on the floor at her feet. After a moment, he heard a long, quiet exhalation, and she patted the bed beside her. _Ah. The ‘I need to talk, but I don’t want to, and I can’t look at you if I do, but I want you here’_.

The bed creaked under his weight, and he focused on keeping still and silent. _Like first year, all over again. She’ll talk when she’s ready_.

“I didn’t really see him at first.” Her voice was hoarse, uneven, and little more than a whisper. “I’d heard it happening up ahead, of course, but… I was so shocked. That little third-year, and the, the _blood_. It sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? I’m sure I must have just stood there and stared.”

_Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Just listen to her breathe. _But his heart ached at the inactivity, and the tremor in her voice when she continued twisted the knife a little harder. _Put an arm around her, you idiot! But she’d stop talking, and she needs to get this out. I hate this_.

“He hexed me from behind, at first. I don’t know why he didn’t just stun me, but… a bludgeoning spell on the back of my legs. But I had my wand and I t-tried to send something back. Anything, really. I just panicked. It was a s-stinging spell. Habit, maybe. And, and a shield, but… but he-”

She broke off and gulped in a breath with a small gasp, leaning up against his shoulder. Instantly, his arm wrapped around her, and he could feel her shaking. _Don’t look. Don’t look. I hate this. I hate being so bloody powerless._

“I think I made him mad. He, he… uh, my shield. Didn’t last long. And then… my arm. Merlin, it hurt so much! I… I don’t really know what happened. Until I f-found myself. Looking at _you_.”

Finally, she turned to him, her arms sliding around him even as he hugged her tightly. She didn’t cry - she probably wouldn’t - but it was a long, long time before the tremors of remembered pain and fear tapered away. _You brave girl - and brave all over again to talk about it._ He found himself stroking her hair gently. _Merlin, I don’t think I can ever smell jasmine and not think of you. _

She looked up at him. Time froze. Their eyes met, caught, _connected_. An eternity later, she took a deep, shaking breath, and let it out again as they both slowly straightened up. Maybe he did the same. She looked away first, although one of her hands still rested on his back, and his arm was still around her back with his hand on her waist.

“So, yeah. That kept me up last night. On and off, bits and pieces.” She let out a humourless puff, “Stupid things, aren’t they, dreams? You _feel_, but the details are different. The faces, people, are different. It’s weird.”

“They don’t have to make sense, no matter what they tell you in Divination. It’s the stress that you remember coming out again, and the fear, and the p-_pain_,” he said, feeling like he was rambling, and tripping over the last word.

“Yeah. Oh, damn it, I am so bloody _tired,_” she admitted quietly.

That was his cue to stand up, although his heart screamed at him to stay at her side. _It’s what she needs_, he told himself firmly. It didn’t seem to help. The alternative, rolling onto his side and pulling her close beside him, seemed like an _excellent_ idea. _Madam Pomfrey would have kittens_.

“Do you think you can give it another go?”

She summoned a small smile. “I don’t think I’ll get a choice, or I’ll just flake out where I am.”

She slid off the bed, then pulled back the covers and crawled in, trying to arrange things one-handed while he added a few charms to the curtains to block out more of the daylight.

“Stay? Just for a while?” she asked in a whisper, her head sinking back on her pillows.

“Of course.”

With that, he resumed his place on the chair beside her bed and waited in silence until long after her breathing was slow and even, his thoughts churning around and around in his head.

Clearly, the hospital wing curtains blocked out more than just light, as Evan stepped out into mild bedlam. Madam Pomfrey was busy tending to two new, bedridden patients, and Professor Sprout was trying to keep two Slytherin fourth-years apart while a scattering of other patients queued in the chairs by the nurse’s office. Professor Sprout let out a sharp exhalation of relief when she caught sight of him, and called him over.

“Mr. Fielding!”

With a mental curse, he changed course to join them. The girl was short and dark, with bobbed brown hair and a face she hadn’t quite grown into. She did have a magnificently-honed snooty expression, though, and she was treating the boy to its full effects while he complained loudly to Professor Sprout and waved his arms around. That involved a lot of waving, because he had six arms rather than the usual two.

“Mr. Fielding, I need you to supervise these two for me while I deal with the other students who are waiting.”

“What about me?” the boy demanded, gesturing angrily as she shooed the three of them into an empty bed space.

“Your issue is neither painful nor dangerous. In fact, it’s relatively benign, which means you will wait until I have dealt with those whose injuries are not_,_” Professor Sprout said firmly, stepping out and sending the curtains whizzing around with a twitch of her wand. That left the two Slytherins glaring at each other, and Evan in the middle. He looked between the two of them.

“Hi.”

“Oh, shut up, Badger-boy,” the boy sulked, making the girl’s lip curl.

“God, Baddock, you’re such a charmer. All he said was hello.”

Evan held up his hands placatingly, “You don’t have to like me, you just have to keep it cool and not try to kill each other.” He flicked his wand, conjuring chairs in each corner of the little space. “Take a seat.”

Baddock scowled at him, but did throw himself down into one of the chairs, glaring alternately at Evan and the girl over a mountain of crossed arms.

He decided that it wouldn’t hurt to be civil. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your names.”

“Cathy Robards,” she introduced herself, settling neatly into her chair and returning the boy’s glare with level disdain. “The ill-mannered moron over there is Anthony Baddock.”

“Evan Fielding.”

“I know.” The lip-curl returned, although it looked a little more humorous than harsh. “I’ve heard my sister banging on about you.”

“Donna?”

Her look answered that question.

“Oh, OK.” Silence stretched out for a long moment, but he couldn’t resist. “Why does he have six arms?”

“If he’s going to act like an octopus, he can have the bloody limbs to match,” the girl spat angrily.

Baddock scowled at her, muttering something rude that ended in, “_-bitch!_”

Evan, quickly stepped into the line of fire, “OK, that’ll do. First things first, don’t be a dick to your housemates, you all have to live together. Second thing, you’ve just pissed off a girl that’s done a _very_ impressive bit of human Transfiguration in _fourth-year_. Most people struggle with that in N.E.W.T.s.”

“So what? Bloody show-off-”

“_She even got the clothes right,_” he pointed out forcefully. “Think about what she’ll be able to do with a wand in a few years’ time, and maybe think about staying on her good side. Or get used to extra appendages, it’s up to you.”

Baddock’s furious sulk crumbled slowly into apprehension, and Robards laughed. She looked a lot more like her sister when she smiled.

“Now I see why Donna likes you.”

_Yeah… no_.

“So why are you here, anyway? You’re not injured, are you?”

Her scowl returned. “Professor Snape insisted.”

_Of course he did_. He let it drop.

When he was finally rescued from his peacekeeping job, he hurried off before anything else could be thrust upon him. Other than a distressing odour emanating from the centre of the castle, things looked relatively normal until he took the stairs down to the Hufflepuff common room. An exasperated-looking Ernie Macmillan was stationed in the middle of the corridor, and the floor behind him…

“Is that _custard_?”

Ernie sighed. “And jelly, apparently.”

There were gloopy-sounding noises and splattering mixed with laughter, and Evan’s eyebrows climbed into his hairline. “Is that… _what the hell is she doing?!_”

“Trying to eat her way out, is the current bet. Look, anyway, back up the stairs, outside, turn right, and you’ll see Hannah. We’re using one of the windows until Umbridge and Filch sort this lot out.”

_Hogwarts, eh?_ He shook his head, and turned to go. “Thanks, Ernie.”

He found Hannah outside, enjoying the sunshine even if it was blowing a cold, stiff breeze. “Hi, Hannah. I hope someone’s moved the tea roses.”

She grinned at him, and gestured to one of the two open windows. “No, we left them. We thought a few thorns in the bum might discourage people from lingering in the door.”

“Window,” he corrected her, sitting down and swinging his legs through the open frame, then hopping down into the common room. He blinked rapidly a few times, trying to adjust to the change in light, and saw Chris give him a small wave from his table by the fireplace.

“_Where the bloody hell have you been?_” bawled a furious voice. He turned to see Zacharias Smith storming towards him with a face like thunder. “You’re half an hour late!”

“Eh?” he said blankly.

“_Quidditch practice!_” Smith exploded. “At ten! That we’ve talked about all week! Where the hell have you _been?_ Do you know how hard it is to get two clear hours of training time? Do you? No, because you don’t care, you just bloody bunked off without so much as a by-your leave!”

Evan grabbed the finger that Smith was jabbing in his chest and wrenched it sideways, his temper roaring to the surface and the blood pounding in his temples. _Quidditch? You’re into me about bloody _Quidditch?! “Poke me with that again and I’ll break it off, you little prick!” he snarled, as Smith let out a startled yelp of pain. “I don’t care? Oh, I bloody care! I care about things that matter a whole hell of a lot more than _bloody Quidditch!_” He bored forward as Smith stumbled backwards in shock.

“Evan!” someone called urgently, but he paid it no mind, his eyes burning furious holes in Smith.

“_So yes, it’s my best mate over some stupid Quidditch practice! Don’t you dare bloody lecture-”_

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Evan, whoa!”

Gwion threw an arm around his chest from behind, hauling him back. As furious as he was, the Chaser was as strong as a dragon, and held him easily while he snarled and heaved against his bonds. Smith stumbled away from them, tripping over the leg of a table and sprawling into a chair before leaping to his feet again, his face white and his eyes wide. Somehow, Gwion slipped around in front of Evan, gripping his biceps in his big, bucket-like hands and looking him in the eye, his dark eyes steady and calm and demanding attention.

Behind the big Welshman, Smith was starting to recover enough to bluster weakly. “You’re mad. Barking! You can’t do this to me, I’ll-”

“Smith? Disappear,” Gwion growled loudly, not breaking eye contact with Evan.

“But-”

“_Disappear! Now!_”

Smith bolted.

Slowly, the white-hot rage began to recede, his jaw unclamping from its furious rictus.

“Take a deep breath, Evan,” Gwion murmured, his vice-like grasp starting to slacken a little. “Just breathe.”

“It’s all right, mate.” Chris was there, too, hovering anxiously, and now the rage really did drop away, leaving only a sick sort of shame behind it. His friends seemed to realise and guided him into a chair, where he put his head in his hands and tried to force the snarling, thrashing, ugly anger back in its cage while around him, the normal sounds of the common room slowly resumed. He blew out a final, hard breath, and swore quietly, clutching his hands loosely together with his elbows on his knees.

“Is Michelle all right?” Chris asked anxiously.

“She’s-” _She’s what? Fine? She’s not fine, she’s in the bloody hospital wing! For now. And that’s only part of it, but- _“She’s coping.”

His friends exchanged a look.

“Are _you_ coping?” Chris asked, very quietly.

His pulse was starting to slow, and it was difficult to meet Chris’ eyes. “The answer to that seems to be no,” he admitted, after a long pause. “Smith being a twat is normal around here. That reaction isn’t.”

Gwion patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Maybe not, but there’s also a time and a place to hassle people, and everyone knew where you'd be, and why. He was out of order.”

“So was I.”

“And at least you recognise that.”

He said nothing, and Gwion gave him a final pat on the shoulder and let it drop. “Where’s the others,” he asked, rather hoarsely.

Chris summoned a small smile. “Smith sent them down to the Quidditch pitch already. Ravi’s in the library, and Becky’s got some tutoring thing with Professor Babbling.”

“Oh, right, she did say. Gwion’s here, though.”

“I came back to tell Smith you weren’t already waiting on the pitch,” he explained.

Evan sighed, and shrugged awkwardly. “I have to admit that Quidditch didn’t even occur to me.”

Gwion just shook his head. “And I’m not surprised. You might as well stay here, mate, there’s no danger your head’s in the game, today.”

That was depressingly accurate. “Yeah. I think I’ll just go back to the dorm for a bit.”

They stood back and let him go, and he knew they were watching him with concern, but he simply put his head down and walked. _And maybe it’s running away from it, but right now, I think I need some time and space to get my head together_.

The Hufflepuff dorms were hewn directly out of the massive granite crag that the castle was built on, and the sheer mass soaked up outside noise like a sponge. With the dorms empty and the doors closed, he could lie back on his bed and let the profound silence envelop him while his breathing slowed and his thoughts settled onto a more even keel._ I can’t believe I went off on one like that. I guess it’s just too many things at once. That whole situation with Michelle this morning - and how she ended up there in the first place, of course. And Warrington preening in the Great Hall, rubbing it in my face. The way he’s been carrying on today, I’m going to have to get my temper under control before I do the bastard a mischief. _

He made a face. _I can’t believe I forgot Quidditch like that, either. Oh Merlin, I’m going to have to apologise to Smith, aren't I? Because he was right to be hacked off that I didn’t show up. And he’s going to be pissy and insufferable, and… and I’m just going to have to take it, because I’m in the wrong. Bollocks. And I suppose I need to thank Gwion, as well. He did me a favour, really. _He let out a long, slow sigh. _One more game. One last time, and then it’s all over. I’m almost tempted to sack it off and just focus on exams, but it’s too late for that now, and I can’t let the others down. I suppose it’s good to have something to focus on outside of class, too, or I’m going to explode._

Outside seemed like a good idea. The thought propelled him to his feet and, snatching up his broom, he traipsed back through the common room and out the window into the chilly, enlivening fresh air. He swung a leg over his broom and climbed hard in a loose spiral until he was far above even the Astronomy Tower. Compared with the lake and the vastness of the Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts, so huge and imposing on the ground, shrank rapidly. Although it remained a mighty bulwark to him and his ant-like colleagues, the world stretched away to distant horizons all around. _There is far more to life than just Hogwarts. It’s easy to lose sight of that, sometimes_.

He knew where he was going, of course, even as he pitched forward and plummeted towards the gorge behind the castle, the wind shrieking in his ears and whipping tears from his eyes. Swooping down between the walls of the gorge, he pulled up into a half-loop to kill off speed, rolling upright at the apex and flying lazy, snaking curves while he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. A large shape was rising up from the Forbidden Forest, closing on him rapidly, and he slowed down and turned broadside to it so that it could see him clearly. Fleetwing’s sleek, black form cut effortlessly through the air, banking gently to slide beneath him, then back again the other way. With a grin, he sped up and tried to follow her, mimicking the hippogriff’s turns and dives. It was so uplifting to fly with such careless freedom, and his heart leapt at Fleetwing’s piercing, eagle-like shriek of excitement, and then it was his turn to lead. They chased each other all around the sky for maybe half an hour before Fleetwing turned and led him towards the hippogriff paddock. Normally, he’d never fly in unannounced, but by Fleety’s side it seemed perfectly natural.

He landed, panting and sweat-streaked, and spent a while making a fuss of Fleety while she chirped and preened happily, rubbing her head against him and leaning into his scratches. A loud flutter of wings announced Storm, who had seemingly escaped his mother and insisted on inserting himself into proceedings, too. He wasn’t the little bundle of fluff and legs any more, the down had completely grown out into dark-grey feathers with little dark flecks, and his stubby little wings were now fully fledged and almost comically oversized. The legs that had looked like stilts were now thicker and stronger. In all, the little chick was now well on his way as a handsome, growing colt.

A shadow passing swiftly across him caught his attention, and he looked up to see Caroline circling the paddock, something limp clutched in one talon. She transferred it to her beak and landed easily beside them, dropping her prize in front of Storm with an encouraging chirp. He needed no second invitation to tear into the unfortunate goose, sending feathers flying. Fleetwing, as greedy as always, stepped forward, only for Caroline to glare at her until she stepped back and turned away with a sheepish twitch of her tail. Rather than watch the carnage, Evan decided to give Caroline some attention, instead. Of course he knew that they were carnivores, but it was still a bit uncomfortable watching him beak-deep in blood and ripping the goose into bite-sized chunks.

The sun was well past noon and his stomach was flapping against his backbone by the time he finally left the hippogriffs behind and flew back to the castle. He hurried into the Great Hall just in time to catch the very last remnants of lunch. He found a seat with Wayne Hopkins and Roger Stebbins, leaning his broom against the table, but barely had his fork touched his lasagne before he saw Roger Davies striding towards him.

“There you are! Merlin, everyone said you’d disappeared!” he said, annoyance warring with relief in his voice.

Evan looked up at him in puzzlement. “What’s up, Roger?”

The Head Boy glanced around, and took a seat next to him. “There’s been some trouble this morning,” he explained in a low, confidential voice. “Warrington’s been prancing around like an utter twat, winding people up. Grant and Jason fell for it, but the second the wands came out, most of the Inquisitorial Squad popped out of the woodwork to have Warrington’s back.” He grimaced. “Grant and Jason are up in the hospital wing, and they won’t get out for a few hours. I know how you must be feeling, and I thought maybe he’d been trying the same trick on you.”

Evan grimaced. Grant Page and Jason Samuels were no slouches with their wands, but even the best could be overwhelmed by numbers. “Does everyone else know about this?”

“Yeah, I spoke to Mike and Maxi earlier. I talked to Trish, too, although that didn’t stop Lee Jordan getting leeks in his ears. I think that was more of a random ambush, though.” Roger ran his hands through his hair in frustration, “I can’t bloody believe the mess this year’s turning into. I’m going to be bald by the Leaving Feast, I think.”

“Hang in there, mate. You’re doing a good job, and it’s the teachers that should be keeping this under control, not you.”

“Well, they bloody aren’t! Just be careful, all right?” He looked over to Roger and Wayne, “That goes for you guys, too. If you see anyone from the Goon Squad on their own, then assume they’ve got their buddies close at hand. Don’t let them wind you up.”

“Will do. Thanks, Roger.”

He hurried out, leaving the Hufflepuffs to finish their lunch. None of them were particularly concerned, seeing as they were some of the last students in the Great Hall, but they kept a sharp eye out as they ate, talking idly about revision and the upcoming exams. Wayne was the last to push his plate away, and looked up and down the tables that had all been cleared except for the small space around them.

“We’d better get out of here before the house elves all come up here and glare at us, like we’re the last people in a restaurant at closing time.”

The three boys made their way outside and back through the common room window again. The Quidditch team had all returned and were spread out in small clusters, their homework and textbooks at hand, and Evan spotted the unwelcome figure of Zacharias Smith a short distance away. _I might as well get it over with, I suppose_. He walked over to him and cleared his throat to get the captain’s attention.

“I’m sorry I forgot about practice. I also shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that when I ran into you earlier.”

Smith looked him up and down with a scowl, his nostrils pinched white. “Oh, but suddenly you’ve remembered your broom, I see.”

_Oh, here we go_.

There was nothing to do but stand there and take it and try to look appropriately contrite while Smith ranted about responsibility and being a good team-mate and respect, and on and on until Tammy finally butted in from her table to interrupt him.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Smith! You know what Evan’s been through this week, how about you exercise that lonely brain cell of yours for once and cut him a bit of slack?”

Smith turned to her and slammed his hands down on the table in frustration. “You think I’m being unreasonable Applebee? _We can win this thing, damn it!_ The team I’ve put together is good enough-”

“That _who’s_ put together?” Maxi muttered sourly, but it wasn't enough to distract him.

“-But I need full commitment from everyone to make that happen! Someone slacking off and not even having the courtesy-”

“_Slacking off?_” Tammy repeated incredulously, “His best mate’s in the bloody hospital wing, you utter dolt!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Applebee! You’re on thin ice, as well!”

“Oh yeah, and then what?” Tammy spat, jumping to her feet. “Huh? Just what are you going-”

“All right, that’ll do!” Evan said loudly, stepping between them to break up their heated glares and trying to avoid noticing the rest of the common room shamelessly rubber-necking. “I was wrong, and I apologise, don’t let it turn into anything bigger than that.”

“I’ve a good mind to sack the bloody pair of you,” Smith muttered huffily, turning back to his work.

“You do that and you’ll be looking for a whole new side,” Gwion growled darkly. “Who’s easier to replace, everyone else, or _you?_”

“Gwion!” Evan let out an exasperated sigh, “For Merlin’s sake!” He shook his head and made his way back to his dorm to ditch his broom and gather up his homework.

An uneasy truce had descended by the time he returned, and he took a seat at a table with Maxi and Mike. Normally, Charms was his favourite subject but he found it difficult to concentrate fully, thoughts of Quidditch and hippogriffs and the future and especially Michelle flitting through his head. He tried to focus himself by helping Ravi and Becky out, but every now and then he’d find himself coming to a hard stop in the middle of a sentence, his train of thought jumping the tracks entirely. He was grateful that they made no comment, just waited quietly for a few minutes and then prodded him back on topic.

It was after five when he pushed his Transfiguration textbook away and slumped back in his seat, rubbing his aching eyes.

Becky grinned at him from across the table, “Yeah, I feel like that, too. Had enough for one afternoon?”

“I suppose so, although I guess we’d better have another crack at it later, after dinner.”

“Yeah.” She paused, looking at him consideringly. “Are you going to see Michelle?”

She had been increasingly on his mind over the last hour. Presumably the others could tell. “Yeah. Hopefully she’s feeling better than this morning.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said, thumping her textbook shut and shoving it back in her bag.

“Anyone else?” He looked around his friends, most of whom were sporting poorly-suppressed smiles.

“Nah, we’ll be up to see her later,” said Maxi. “You go on, now, an’ make her day.”

It was notable as they set off towards the hospital wing that Becky was keeping a sharp eye out, her wand drawn and by her side. Near the doors to the hospital wing itself, she murmured, “On the landing, far side. That Crabbe is watching. Or Goyle. Whatever, one of Malfoy’s twin ogres. Keep walking.”

He glanced across as he pushed the doors open and sure enough, there was a troll-like figure watching them, motionless. _Gathering information. They know I’m going to be coming in here, so they want to know when, with whom, if there’s any pattern. If I’m alone, probably, like Roger said earlier. No wonder Becky came along. It doesn’t bode well. _He shrugged those thoughts off and kept going, replying, “Subtle, they aren’t,” as the doors swung shut behind them.

The chaos of the morning was gone, and the hospital wing was quiet and perfectly orderly. A few strides brought him to the familiar bed space.

“Anyone home?” he called softly.

“Only me!”

The hint of laughter in her voice made him grin, and he stepped through the curtains to be greeted by her bright, cheerful smile. She was sitting up on her bed, a folder open on her knees and a textbook by her side, with a quill in her hand and a blanket draped over her shoulders.. Her hair was caught up in a large hair clip, and he hoped she didn’t notice the hitch in his breathing when he saw the full extent of the pink scars that slashed across her cheek and into her hairline. Her distressed and dishevelled condition that morning meant that it was the first time he’d really seen them clearly in daylight.

“Hey, you! Have you come to rescue me from Transfiguration?”

“I was just suffering through that, too. You’re looking much better, this afternoon.”

“Yeah, I slept like a log. I didn’t even hear you go, I just conked out.” Her smile faltered a little, and she looked away. “Thank you for staying,” she added softly.

“Any time. I was more worried that I’d keep you awake.” A thought occurred to him, and he looked quickly around, “You know, Becky came up here with me.”

“Really?” Their little space was distinctly Becky-less. She giggled, “Maybe she’s listening in through the curtains. Well, if she’s not here to fill me in on all the news, what did you get up to today?”

He pulled up the little wooden chair that was becoming a familiar perch, and quickly they were deep in discussion about the day’s events. He tried to skip over some of the more unpleasant stuff, but there was something to the cast of her eyes when he tried that and he gave up. She was happy enough to hear him ramble on about hippogriffs, though, and seeing her smile was enough to slowly unwind some of the tension he didn’t even know he was carrying until it was lifted from him. They were so engrossed in their conversation that Madam Pomfrey stepping into the bed space carrying a steaming tray made them both jump. “It’s gone six,” she said, correctly reading their expressions.

“Oh! Er, right,” said Michelle, before adding, “How did that happen?” under her breath.

Evan could have sworn the stern nurse was suppressing a grin. “I’ll leave your dinner on the side, Miss Taylor. Mr. Fielding, you should think about heading back downstairs.”

“Right-oh. I’ll see you tomorrow, Michelle. I think the others are coming up later, and I shouldn’t monopolise all your time.”

She smiled at him, and plucked a hard-backed novel off her bedside table. “If Becky ever turns up again, could you give that back to her for me?”

They said their goodbyes, and when he stepped out with his mind already turning to whether he ought to go looking for Becky, he was surprised to see her sitting in one of the chairs by the nurse’s office, swinging her feet idly.

“Are you done?” she asked, leaping to her feet.

“You’re more than welcome to see her, too, you know,” he said, a little pointedly, handing her the book.

She shrugged, and fell in by his side. “Yeah, well. I’ll catch up with her later, after dinner.”

“What were you doing, anyway?” He noticed that she had her wand in hand, and decided that perhaps it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

“Hoping I wasn’t going to have to try out my ropey Defence skills,” she said quietly, glancing carefully around. “Warrington came in not that long after we did.”

There were many thoughts that raced through his head at that news. In the end, he settled for a neutral, “Oh.”

“I don’t think he was looking for you, actually, he went over to see Montague. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s Montague, anyway, Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t tell me much. I asked how he’s doing, and all she’d say is that he’s still confused and fearful, but should make a full recovery in time.”

Montague had already had time, loads of it by magical standards. Again, Evan wondered what on earth had happened to him, and he could tell that Becky was thinking the same things.

They made it back to the common room without incident and in time to join the others on their way up to dinner. Afterwards, they insisted on seeing him safely outside - the usual corridor to the common room was still a lake of custard - before going to see Michelle. Instead, he found a spot in the common room and tried to ignore Tutshill stomping Caerphilly on the wireless in the corner to plug away at more revision for Charms, as well as some more reading ahead for their self-taught Defence homework. It wasn’t the most thrilling way to spend a Saturday night, but it was at least one way to take his mind off the girl in the hospital wing and whatever game Warrington was playing - besides trying to be as obnoxious as possible in the sure knowledge that anything he did would be tacitly condoned by Umbridge.

_Come on, the curse! It’s too late for us on Defence, but we’ve got to get rid of her one way or another before she destroys Hogwarts entirely_.


	23. Escalation

Sunday was a day best spent in the common room. When he ventured out to see Michelle in the morning after breakfast, he, Maxi, and Ravi had to dodge a hail of candle-stubs from Peeves, and they bolted towards the hospital wing only to run smack into Warrington, Bletchley, and Vaisey.

“Aw, off to see your little _girlfriend_, Fielding?” Warrington cooed mockingly. “Tell the bitch I said hello, I’m sure she remembers _me_.”

Evan stopped dead, only for Maxi and Ravi to grab his elbows and haul him along. “Ignore them, mate, for Merlin’s sake,” Ravi hissed quietly. The Slytherins laughed, and sauntered off towards the stairs.

“And tell her maybe I’ll play with her again when she gets out,” Warrington threw back over his shoulder.

He tried to pull away from his friends on instinct, the surge of white-hot rage suffocatingly intense, but they half-dragged him through the doors to the hospital wing, Warrington’s intolerable, mocking laughter ringing in his ears until the doors swung shut, leaving their ragged, panting breaths hanging in the air.

“My God, Evan, if you don’t kill the bastard, I just might,” Maxi growled at last.

“They’re just trying to wind you up, mate, they’re looking for a reaction-” said Ravi rapidly, but Evan cut across him.

“_I know!_” he snarled, before forcing himself to take a breath and swallow back some of the anger. “Sorry, mate. I know they are. But if they keep threatening Michelle like that, it’s probably going to work.”

Ravi swallowed. “I don’t blame you, but I hope you won’t take it personally if we try our damnedest to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

He took another deep, shaky breath, and dragged his hands through his hair. “I think I’m going to have to count on it.”

“What is the meaning of all this noise?!”

Madam Pomfrey had perfected the art of being able to shout in a whisper, and the three flinched at her ire. It took several minutes to talk the Matron around, minutes that served just as well to calm themselves down, too, before they could make their way to Michelle’s bed. She beamed happily at their company, and they chatted about their days and the morning’s _Daily Prophet _and anything else that came to mind for more than an hour. _She’s worth a thousand of those bastards out there, a million of scum like Warrington. Is that why they’re so threatened by her, that someone kind and __cheerful__ and talented like her flies way above their arrogance and hatred? _He looked away from her from a moment, laughing along with Ravi over a story about Hannah Abbott’s brush with a knarl quill and a bottle of shrinking solution, and closed his eyes briefly. _I know I’m not exactly impartial, here, but she is._

After a lunch cut short by a Peeves-induced rain of ballistic brie, the Hufflepuffs joined their Gryffindor and Ravenclaw friends in the library for a combined study session. It had been organised by Roger and Trish as a way for them to hear some different voices and get different perspectives on their revision than just their housemates’. Deep into the session, Evan felt the sting of a jinx on his shoulder blade.

Chaos.

Instantly, the seventh-years were on their feet, wands in hands, shielding spells flying in all directions, but Evan was more occupied by the burning pain in his jaw, his facial bones, his ears, as his features began to lengthen and swell and distort. Hurried _Finites_ from Grant and Emma stopped the jinx’s progress, but his head felt heavy, the bones raw and deformed, and his skin stretched drum-tight.

“Where-”

“Did anyone see them?”

“-from behind, the bastards!”

Inevitably, Madam Pince burst out of the stacks incandescent with rage at the commotion. “_What do you think you are doing? _Flinging spells about, in my library?!”

“Someone hexed him, Madam Pince,” Roger began, but she wasn't listening and probably didn’t care.

“A likely story! Out! _Out_, all of you! And if I see anything like this again, you’ll all be banned for a month!”

A few people spoke up in protest, but Evan stood up, and nearly fell over at the unaccustomed weight in his head. “Le’s guh,” was the best he could manage through his distorted mouth, but they got the picture when they saw him trying to pack, and Tammy quickly took his bag and helped him. Outside, opinion was split between cursing Evan’s attacker and bemoaning Madam Pince’s reaction.

“Let’s get you up to the hospital wing,” said Becky, taking his arm.

“Or I think I can probably undo it,” Grant Page offered. “I’ll have a crack, if you like?”

Evan thought about it for a few seconds, and shrugged. Nodding was a mistake, but a few seconds later he could feel his bones shrinking and returning to normal. He worked his aching jaw a few times, blinking his watering eyes, “Thanks, Grant, I owe you.”

“Grant, you’ve screwed it up,” said Megs, with a grin. “Look, he’s _far _more handsome than he was before.”

That broke the tension a little, and Evan joined in with the sporadic chuckles. “I wouldn’t recommend it any time soon, that hurt.”

“And three guesses who it was that jinxed you,” Trish said worriedly. “I hate to say it, but I think the best thing you can do for now is head back to your common room, and stay there.”

It felt like retreating after a defeat, but he slunk back to the common room, escorted by his mates, and only made a brief sally for dinner. He did make a point of examining himself in the mirror the next time he went to the bathroom to reassure himself that the residual aches in his facial bones were just that, and not a sign of something Grant had missed. _Hmph. It looks like he did a good job_. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. _He shouldn’t have had to, though. This is escalating, and I have no idea how the hell we stop it._

* * * * *

Monday morning brought a resumption of their usual classes - and plenty of opportunities for Warrington to try to get a rise out of him. Barbed comments, knowing laughter, casually-vile threats, all spoken where he could overhear them, all with eyes locked on him so that he couldn’t mistake their intention. As much as Evan wanted to wipe that smile off Warrington’s face and pound the words back down his throat, he ground his teeth and held his tongue, and tried to keep a grip on his temper, which flamed hotter with every incident.

“-course it’s wasted on that filth, a body like that.”

“I suppose I could have copped a feel, but I’d never get the stink of _mud _off my hands.”

“-Just a shame it wasn’t both of them, really.”

His friends were as outraged as he was. Mike and Maxi had a permanent, mutual grip of each others’ hands to stop either of them doing something precipitous, and Evan had to talk Tammy and Becky out of hexing Bletchley’s brains out after Charms. Lunch was a peaceful, blissful interlude spent in the hospital wing with Michelle, who was looking more energetic and like her usual self again, but any doubt that Evan was a target was quickly dispelled when someone hit him with a Jelly-Legs Jinx on the way back to class. Normally, the counter-jinx would only take a second, but if Chris and Ravi hadn’t grabbed him like lightning, that second would have seen him plunge head-first down the stairs.

The final bell of the day was an incredible relief, and Evan felt his shoulders slump. Just the walk back to the common room, and not only would he be away from the steady drip of hateful comments, but he could stop watching the corners, stop looking everywhere at once, and let the tension go and _relax_. The sheer alertness was exhausting. On the second floor, though, he saw the flash of a spell intercept a second-year Ravenclaw girl hurrying after her mates and send her sprawling. Their wands came out instantly, and even as her friends turned to look and the girl reached for her bag that had gone tumbling along the corridor, it zipped across the floor out of her reach. Evan’s eyes darted quickly around and came to rest on the figure of Malfoy lounging against the baluster with his wand in his hand and smirk on his face, dwarfed by his towering, troll-like sidekicks.

“Grow up and leave her alone, Malfoy.”

The blond boy sneered at him in contempt. “Yeah? Or what? You don’t tell the Inquisitorial Squad what to do, Fielding. Maybe if you beg, but you’ll have to ask nicer than that.”

Evan raised his wand and looked coldly down its length at him, and without looking he knew his friends were doing the same. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

“Are you deaf as well as stupid? You don’t tell me what to do.” Malfoy looked around and sighed loudly, then turned away with an indifferent shrug, “Is there anything more tedious than a do-gooder?”

“Yeah Mudbloods,” Goyle rumbled

“Mudblood-lovers,” Crabbe grunted, as the two fell in behind their leader, and the three of them laughed as they sauntered off towards the stairs.

It was a moment before Evan could unclench his jaw and look around. The Ravenclaw girls had scarpered, and he didn’t blame them. His friends looked every bit as hacked off as he felt, too.

“What the hell is going on in this place?” Becky muttered in disbelief. It was hard to argue with the sentiment.

The corridor to their common room had finally been cleared of its lake of custard, but even when the barrels swung shut behind them, it was difficult to unwind, and next to impossible to distract himself long enough to focus on his homework, especially with the others arguing in fierce whispers over how they should react and when. After half an hour’s half-hearted revision, he threw his quill down in disgust and retreated to his dorm, where he could sit on his bed in silence and try to calm himself down.

Any equilibrium he had reached vanished when they went up to the Great Hall for dinner, as by some twist of luck or fate or planning, Warrington was waiting inside the doors with Bletchley, not far from the end of the Slytherin table.

“And the dregs of Hogwarts disgrace us with their presence. Merlin, and this place used to have _standards_,” he drawled in a carrying voice. It got a few laughs from the green-clad ranks behind him, but many of them simply looked anxious.

“Piss off, Warrington!” Maxi spat furiously, her hand twitching by her wand pocket.

“Whatever standards it had went out the door when they let scum like you in,” her boyfriend added venomously.

“Oh, look, Miles, I miscounted,” Warrington added in faux-shock. “Not all of the dregs made it. You think we can get rid of a few more before the end of the year?”

Bletchley laughed, but a grumble of anger rose not just from Evan’s friends but the other tables, as well.

“I’m warning you, Warrington, I have had more than enough out of you,” Evan growled through gritted teeth.

Warrington laughed. “Oh my. How terrifying. What’s next, Fielding? You might use harsh words?”

“I know what you did, you cowardly bastard!” he snarled, taking a step towards him. “Don’t think you’ll get away with it forever.”

Desperately trying to wrestle his temper under control once more, he turned away, a cannonball of acid and rage boiling in his stomach, but he didn’t miss Warrington’s reply.

“What’re you going to do, go blubbering to teacher? Ha, all this pathetic posing over some Mudblood and your polluted gutter whore!”

Maybe he caught them off-guard. Maybe he had changed direction before they could stop him. Maybe they didn’t _want_ to stop him, but in any case, Evan whirled and stormed towards the Slytherin table. Warrington’s wand flashed out and a spell flared, but he batted it away with his own wand, not even breaking stride. Shouts rose all around him, and the students on either side of Warrington scrambled away left and right as Evan jammed his wand back into his pocket. Voluntarily abandoning his wand seemed to completely wrong-foot Warrington, and rather than cast another spell, he hesitated. There was a split-second’s fear on his face before Evan seized his wand arm with his left hand and rocketed his right fist forward.

Warrington’s head snapped back, blood spurting as he collapsed backwards onto the Slytherin table and sent plates and platters flying despite Bletchley’s attempts to catch him. Evan stood motionless for a second, chest heaving, before the snarl on his face faded and he turned on his heel and strode for the doors. Around him, the shocked silence suddenly dissolved into uproar.

“Mr. Fielding!”

He ignored Umbridge’s shrill shriek from the high table and kept walking. A spell seared past him. Another thundered into his back, making him stumble, but he kept the same unhurried, implacable pace. As he straightened, a third spell clipped his shoulder, drawing blood, then another, and another. What sounded like generalised warfare was breaking out around him, but he kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead. Through the towering doors of the Great Hall and out into the atrium, and then he turned for the Hufflepuff dorms, the sounds of the uproar behind him gradually fading.

* * * * *

Pomona Sprout bustled through the corridors with unseemly haste for a lady of her age and stature. She had feared that something like this was inevitable after the attack on Miss Greenhalgh and Miss Taylor, but she hadn’t expected it to break out in the Great Hall at dinner time. No matter. She could only hope that she’d find Fielding before any of the other teachers. He would be quite safe with Minerva or Filius, perhaps, but she dreaded the thought of Umbridge getting there first.

She had left her fellow teachers to try to restore order in the Hall and begun her own, hurried search for the boy. She had a feeling that he’d head for somewhere safe and familiar. Her first thought was the Hospital Wing, either to see Miss Taylor or have his wounds attended to - or both. He wasn’t in the dorms, or the common room, either. She burst into her office with the intention of contacting the Friar and recruiting him to aid her search, and just about leapt out of her skin to see Fielding slumped on a chair in front of her desk.

He looked around at her wearily. “Professor-”

His voice jolted her into action again, and she hurried forward, drawing her wand. “Don’t move, boy! Great Merlin, the state of you!”

His robes gaped wide on the left side, just below the shoulder blades, and his shirt was saturated dark red. They were also ripped open on the top of his right shoulder - and he was shivering, a bad sign. A couple of deft _Diffendos_, and she gently lifted the cloth away, sucking her teeth at the damage underneath. As well as the deep slashes in his flesh, his back was spotted with the bruises and welts of stinging and bludgeoning hexes.

“Do you want to go up to the Hospital Wing, or do you want me to patch you up here?”

“Perhaps I should give it a while before I head up there.”

“Perhaps, indeed!” Her wand flared into life, muscle and skin knitting back together in its wake. “What are you doing here, Mr. Fielding.”

“I thought you’d be looking for me,” he growled through gritted teeth. “That, and I won’t have far to go when I pack.”

She lifted a pair of small cauldrons onto the fire and began grabbing up herbs and other supplies, measuring and stirring absently. “Going somewhere, Mr. Fielding? _Tergeo_.”

“I should think so. If she hasn’t already, Professor Umbridge has nailed her colours to the mast on this one. Green and silver, apparently.”

She cleaned his more minor wounds and dispelled the hexes she found, working in silence. A massive bruise forming on his right thigh from a bludgeoning spell got a numbing charm, while she conjured a couple of ice bags for his badly-swollen hand. Finally, she rummaged around in a cupboard for a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she said gently, “Mr. Fielding, I asked you to let us deal with this-”

Eyes like ice chips bored into hers. “And I gave you the weekend, and more, Professor. Nothing. No-one suspended, no-one so much as given a detention. Not a sausage. Let’s be honest, if some kid from Ravenclaw gets detention for sneezing in the corridor a few weeks back, how does this get a free pass?”

Her heart sank. He was right, of course. “Mr. Fielding... for what it’s worth, I agree with you, but it’s not exactly simple right now to manage students as we might like.”

“So you just let it go? It’s too difficult?”

She stirred one cauldron three times widdershins, with a half-twist and figure eight stroke at the end, before cleaning her wand and whisking the contents of the second cauldron vigorously. It gave her a little time to let the heat go out of his accusation. “I will forgive you for that, Mr. Fielding, because I know how much the recent incidents have affected you. We teachers have to act carefully right now, because without Professor Dumbledore, we are on very thin ice. We have tried throughout the year to act in the manner we see as fit and appropriate, and been overruled at every turn.”

“Your students rely on you,” he began, but she overrode him.

“Don’t lecture me on my responsibilities, Mr. Fielding!” she barked sharply, before reining herself in and continuing in a lower voice, “And while we can’t do as much as we’d like right now, we’d be able to do nothing if we were not here. One of the hardest things is judging when to pick your battles.”

“When to pick your battles?” he repeated angrily, his voice rising. “If not now - when? If not for them - then for who?”

“And picking a fight in the Great Hall at dinner time is the way to do it?”

“No! But he picked the damn fight, and to hell with letting the bastard walk all over me and all of my mates!” he spat, his eyes flashing.

She let the outburst pass. “And then you assaulted him!”

“You heard what he said? If not, ask around, plenty of others did. He even threw the first spell. If he wanted a fight, he got one, and he can count himself lucky that a bloody nose is all he got!”

She lifted her cauldrons off the fire; one had thickened nicely to a viscous brown paste, the other had a wine-like colour and consistency. She took a stoppered bottle from a high shelf and carefully added a couple of drops to the latter, swirling it gently to mix, then charming it to cool. “And what, exactly, do you think that achieved?!”

“Hufflepuffs won’t be bullied! Hufflepuffs stick up for each other! Because isn’t that supposed to be one of our defining traits? The Badgers, ever loyal? To what, if not each other?!”

_To each other_, she thought in despair. _To our fellow Hufflepuffs, and to all that’s right and fair_. It would be too easy to dismiss his actions as a Gryffindor-ish rush of blood. He had listened and waited. When the teachers had failed to act, he had done so, instead - not with the thoughtless bravery of the charge, but when things had then escalated, he had stood his ground and dug in and refused to back down. She decanted a measure of the wine-coloured potion into a mug and passed it to him. “Drink this.”

“What is it?”

“A blood replenishing potion. I’m afraid your clothes may be beyond rescue, but you lost quite a bit of blood, there.”

“Thank you,” he said in a low voice, knocking it back in one. “What was the other thing?”

“A couple of drops of Calming Draught. You’ve had a very stressful few days.”

“Perhaps.”

She busied herself for a few moments, transferring the paste she had brewed into a clay pot and conjuring a wax seal. That done, she turned to him again. “Mr. Fielding. Evan. I am still a Professor of Hogwarts, and as such I am forced to bow to my superiors when it comes to the discipline of students - whether I agree with it or not. As a fellow Hufflepuff, I agree with an awful lot of what you’ve said tonight, if not some of the actions associated with it. I hope you can understand the distinction. I hope, also, that you realise my own position.”

“The Slytherins and especially the so-called Inquisitorial Squad have been pushing their luck recently, throwing their weight around and trying to intimidate other students.” he said quietly.”We tried to pair the youngsters up with the older students to give them some backup, and it looked like it was working. Until last Thursday. Warrington went way, _way_ too far. I couldn’t let this pass, Professor. Not this time.”

He met her eyes and held them, and after a moment, she nodded. “I understand that you’re very close to Miss Taylor. She’ll need strong friends with her, Mr. Fielding. Support her, by all means, defend her and all your friends, but make sure that you’re still here afterwards.”

“I understand.”

“Perhaps you should head up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey ought to check you over, and no doubt you’ll want to see Miss Taylor, too. And then, unfortunately, I think our High Inquisitor is going to want a word with you.”

“More than just a word, I think. Um, Professor... as my Head of House, would you-”

“Of course. I was going to suggest it myself.”

He puffed out his cheeks and looked away from her for a moment. “And if there’s another teacher who you trust, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have an impartial witness, too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You _were _listening when I said not to do anything rash, weren’t you? Just what do you have in mind, Mr. Fielding?”

“I’m not entirely sure. It depends on how it goes,” he said eventually.

“I don’t like the sound of that. I don’t like the sound of it at all, but I suppose there’s no dissuading you. Are you all right to walk?”

He levered himself to his feet, wincing as his right leg took his weight, and limped after her towards the Hospital Wing. A few students stared at him as they passed, but he got nods of approval in one of the corridors from Roger Davies and a couple of his Ravenclaw buddies, and by the Grand Staircase, Kenny and Lee from Gryffindor gave him a thumbs-up and a grin.

Inside the hospital wing, Professor Sprout guided him to the nearest empty bed. “Have a seat, Mr. Fielding, I’ll see where Madam Pomfrey’s got to.”

Rather than follow her orders, he limped over to Michelle’s bed instead and looked carefully around the curtain. She was propped up on her pillows, engrossed in a novel. She looked less pale with the bandage gone from her arm, but scars still stood out sharply on her right cheek and forehead.

“Hey. You're looking better.”

“Evan!” Her head snapped up, her familiar, bright smile lighting up her face – but it vanished immediately when she saw his blanket-wrapped form. “What happened to you?”

He couldn't resist a small, hard smile. “Gave a Slytherin a piece of my mind. How're you doing?” he asked. Rather than go and sit with her, he stayed where he was, his tattered uniform mostly hidden behind the curtain. _I’ll only be a minute, anyway, and I don’t want to worry her._

“Oh, it’s a laugh a minute here,” she said, although the sass was half-hearted and didn’t disguise her concern. “More to the point, are you sure you’re all right?”

He shrugged dismissively, “I just need a bit of a check-over-”

He was interrupted by a voice from behind him, making him jump a little. “I'm ready for you now, Mr. Fielding.”

She eyed him dubiously but didn’t question him further. “They brought someone in earlier, I didn't see who it was,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Mr. Fielding?” came the matron's voice again.

“I’d better go. Catch you tomorrow, okay?”

“G'night,” she said softly.

“'Night, Michelle.”

* * * * *

Madam Pomfrey’s disapproval was clear from her stern expression, but he couldn’t tell whether it was entirely because of the reason for his injuries or because he hadn’t come to her immediately. That said, she seemed entirely happy with the work that Professor Sprout had done and concentrated on his more minor injuries, having ensured that the major ones had been healed appropriately.

Eventually, dog-tired and drooping, he was handed the clay pot he’d seen Professor Sprout prepare earlier with instructions to apply its contents twice daily, and discharged into the Professor’s care.

Professor Sprout looked him over carefully as he emerged from the matron’s office and said, “Well. I believe you’ll be a wanted man by now, Mr. Fielding. Shall we go and turn you in?”

He tried to ignore a frisson of nerves. “Only if you agree to split the reward money. Then again, I really don’t feel up to standing on top of the Astronomy Tower, shouting ‘You’ll never take me alive, copper!’”

He got a fearsome look. “I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Mr. Fielding!”

“Sorry.”

Suitably chastened, he followed her out into the corridor, where they nearly ran head-first into Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick.

“Ah, the man of the hour. Mr. Fielding, Professor Umbridge is most anxious to talk to you,” Professor McGonagall said pointedly. “He is well enough for this, Pomona?”

“Apparently so, although I’m sure he’s quite tired after the healing,” said Professor Sprout.

“I’m afraid he’ll just have to bear up, as I don’t think Professor Umbridge is in the mood for waiting.”

“Her office, I’m assuming?”

“Correct.”

Professor Sprout bit her lip for a moment. “Mr. Fielding has asked for me to be present as his Head of House. Normally I wouldn’t ask this of you, but he suggested that it may be desirable for either of you to be present, also.”

The two professors exchanged a look in silence. “Certainly, I can accompany you as Deputy Headmistress. And Filius, would you?”

“By all means,” said the Charms professor, chewing the ends of his moustache thoughtfully.

“Well, then. Lead on,” said Professor Sprout.

Evan followed her through the castle, the other professors bringing up the rear, until the reached the poster-marked doorway to Professor Umbridge’s office, next to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. He steeled himself with a deep breath, then reached out and knocked.

“Enter!”

He tried to school his face into as neutral an expression as he could manage, and let himself in.

Inside, amidst a riot of hideous chintz and twee kitten pictures, was the squat figure of Professor Umbridge sitting behind the large desk in the centre of the room, her lips compressed into a disapproving line.

“Thank you, Pomona, you may go.”

Professor Sprout shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Mr. Fielding has asked me to remain with him as his Head of House, as he is entitled to do.”

“I see.” Umbridge’s eyes darted to the other teachers, standing just inside the door. “And you?”

“I am Deputy Headmistress, Dolores. Mr. Fielding’s welfare is, therefore, a matter of my direct concern.”

Professor Umbridge’s nostrils flared, her eyes dark and hateful. “And Filius, as well? I see that I am to be ambushed by staff members who forget their place! Are there any more of you lurking in the corridor? Any more so overcome by concern for Mr. Fielding’s welfare that they do not trust me as Hogwarts High Inquisitor to apply a suitable and sufficient punishment for his disgraceful behaviour?”

There was no answer, but a quiet click as Professor Flitwick shut the door.

“Where is this concern for Mr. Fielding’s victim, hmm? No-one? Your attitude speaks volumes!”

Evan nearly spat up the flood of bitter rage that swept through him at hearing Cassius Warrington described as a victim, but caught himself at the last second, his breath sizzling in his throat. It was easier if he kept his eyes level ahead. That meant she was beneath his gaze, and he didn’t have to look at her ugly, spiteful face. That meant he could keep the barest, white-knuckle grip on his temper.

“Very well, then! What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Fielding? An unprovoked attack on one of the Inquisitorial Squad - in the middle of the Great Hall, no less! Give me one good reason why I should not expel you forthwith!”

“Surely that’s-” Professor Sprout began, only to be cut off by Umbridge’s high-pitched, whip-crack of a retort.

“I did not ask you, Pomona! Speak, boy!”

“I should not have struck Warrington,” Evan said softly, through gritted teeth.

“At last! The light dawns, albeit late!” Umbridge crowed sarcastically. “You admit it, then?”

“I should not have reacted to his provocation, no, although he attacked me first by casting the first spell.” Evan’s voice was flat, as emotionless as he could make it, although he had to clench his hands into fists by his side to keep the angry tremors at bay.

“He was entitled to protect himself from your obvious intention to attack,” Umbridge said, her voice dripping disdain. “That is no defence, Mr. Fielding, none at all!”

“The words used merited the response, Professor.”

“Nonsense! Some childish squabble, and you fell on him like a Muggle!” she spat the last word derisively.

“On the contrary, Professor Umbridge,” Professor Flitwick broke in, his usually excitable, cheerful face unaccustomedly stern. “I heard the words used. Words which are not tolerated at this school, or any other, with the deliberate intention of provoking a reaction from Mr. Fielding. I feel little sympathy for Mr. Warrington to learn that he was successful, and disgust that he should speak so about fellow students.”

“A few ill-judged words do not excuse his actions, Filius!”

“At a time when one student is still in St. Mungo's and another-” Professor Flitwick persisted, only to be cut off again.

“That is irrelevant!”

“Well, that depends on who put them there, doesn’t it?” Evan’s words cut through the arguments, the hint of brimstone in his voice leaving a yawning silence in their wake.

“Evan!”

Professor Sprout’s low warning was almost lost in Umbridge’s brisk reply. He noted that she had suddenly busied herself with some papers on her desk, patting them into order with her hands and refusing to look at any of them.

“Miss Greenhalgh and Miss Taylor suffered an unfortunate accident, Mr. Fielding. I don’t know what notions you have got into your head, but that’s the truth of it and that will be the end of it. Your violent outburst against Mr. Warrington cannot be defended or excused. Count yourself fortunate that I am inclined to be lenient on this occasion. Detention, Mr. Fielding. Every night for the next month. And as you have shown that you are unable to control yourself, I feel that a ban from Quidditch is also in order until you have the maturity to behave responsibly.”

_You coward, you bloody snake, you lying, disgusting, foul hag!_ He felt a restraining hand on his arm, and his body shook with the effort of keeping his eyes level and his mouth shut.

“As you have administered the detention, Dolores, perhaps you intend to oversee it? We all of us are busy at this time of year-”

“As am I, Minerva, as am I. I have a school to run and many important duties to discharge.” She looked up, her face twisted in a malicious smile, “However, as you are so concerned with student discipline as Deputy Headmistress, perhaps you should see to his punishment, instead. I shall be checking to ensure that it is applied correctly, of course.”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, “Dolores, I simply do not have the time-”

“Then you shall have to find it, won’t you?” Umbridge simpered insincerely. “As for you, Mr. Fielding, get out of my sight and pray that you do not come to my attention again, or next time I shall not be so lenient!”

Evan half-nodded to the foul little woman and about-faced, marching slowly out of her room with Professor Sprout by his side. When the reached the end of the Defence corridor, he slowed and stopped, taking a few deep breaths before he trusted himself to speak.

“Thank you for your help tonight, Professors. I’m sorry to put you to the trouble.”

“That’s quite all right, my boy,” Professor Flitwick squeaked, with a short bow.

“And I noticed what you did at the end, there, Professor McGonagall.”

The Transfiguration teacher fixed him with a piercing look. “Do not think that means I shall go easy on you, Mr. Fielding.”

“Of course not, Professor - but I trust you to be fair about it.”

For a moment, the habitually-stern Professor almost smiled. “Seven o’clock tomorrow night, my office.”

“Yes, Professor. Good night.”

She nodded to the others and set off for the Grand Staircase, but Evan was surprised to see that Professor Flitwick lingered.

“While I wouldn’t have done what you did tonight, Mr. Fielding, I believe I understand. You’re sure of your accusation?”

“As sure as I can be. People I trust tell me he was boasting about it, and there’s paintings up on the seventh floor that told me what they saw. That tallies with what Michelle told me. Cassius Warrington attacked Carrie Greenhalgh, and turned on Michelle when she tried to intervene.”

The little professor bristled indignantly. “I see. You understand that I cannot confirm any of your suppositions, Mr. Fielding?”

_You just have_, he thought. “Of course, Professor. Is there any news on Carrie’s condition?”

“Miss Greenhalgh will be kept in at St. Mungo's for another week, and will then spend a few days at home with her parents to recuperate,” said Professor Sprout. “She should return to Hogwarts on Sunday week.”

Evan sagged a little in relief. “There’s something, then. Thanks again, Professor.”

“Good night, Mr. Fielding.”

That left Professor Sprout to accompany him on the journey down to the lower levels of the castle and the entrance to the Hufflepuff basement. He drew his wand to tap the entry pattern on the barrels when the Professor stopped him.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Mr. Fielding?”

“I’ll live. Just tired,” he admitted, stifling a yawn.

“I must admit, I was rather worried about what Professor Umbridge’s reaction would be.”

“So was I - and I wasn’t entirely sure I would keep my temper, either.” He shook his head in anger and frustration, “You heard it yourself, she’s going to close her eyes and pretend that nothing happened. How, Professor? How the hell can she do that, and get away with it?”

Professor Sprout shuffled uneasily. “We had this discussion earlier, and I still agree with you in private, if not in public. But she has the Minister’s ear, and seemingly _carte blanche_ to do whatever she likes. Until that changes...”

Evan took a deep, shaky breath and tried to blow some of his anger out with it. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait until it does. Anyway, thanks for coming with me tonight.”

She gave him a brief, humourless smile, and cast the opening spell herself. As the barrels swung open, she said, “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll let you get to bed, but Mr. Fielding? I shouldn’t say this. I shouldn’t have to say this, but - be careful. There may be those who would seek revenge for this evening’s events.”

“Almost certainly - but I knew that, and I had been trying to avoid it getting to that point. Now? I suppose I’ll have to ask Madam Pomfrey to keep a place ready for me.”

“This is no laughing matter, Fielding!” she snapped angrily. “You have made enemies tonight, but you have also made yourself a figurehead that others will seek to defend vigorously. We just need one hot-headed fool to hex someone, and this situation could boil over all over the school!” She took a deep breath of her own, her eyes boring piercingly into his. “You have done well enough to keep your temper just now, barring the aberration in the Great Hall, but I cannot trust that others will do the same. Keep your wits about you, and your wand and fists to yourself unless you have no other choice.”

“I’ll do my best, but that’s as much up to the other side as it is to mine.”

“Then let’s hope that sense prevails, on all sides.”

Evan nodded soberly. “I understand. Good night, Professor.”

* * * * *

The noise in the common room ceased for a moment when he entered, then picked up a few notches. He paid no attention to the voices that called to him, but simply concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to his dorm.

“Hey, Evan-”

“That bloody snake-”

“You OK, Fielding?”

“Way to go, man-”

Hitting the door to his dorm, he broke stride only long enough to drop his wand on his bedside table and grab a towel before heading for the showers. With the bathroom door closed behind him, he slumped back against the sink and closed his eyes for a moment, his head nodding in time with his breathing. It was an effort just to open his eyes and unwrap the blanket around him, then set the shower running.

His breath caught when he saw the smears of blood that still daubed his torso in the mirror. He kicked off his shoes and tried to undo his trousers, only to realise that they were caked onto him, the black fabric stiff with congealing blood - and the remaining tails of his shirt, too. It had soaked into the blanket in places, as well. He gave up and turned his pockets inside out, then stepped into the shower still half-dressed. The hot water felt fantastic against his face, running over the half-remembered aches all over his body, sluicing the memory of pain away with it.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and he half-turned as he heard Mike’s voice, “Are ya sure yer all right, Ev- _Great Merlin, there’s been a murder in here!_”

Mike was staring at him with eyes like saucers, and he took a moment to catch on and look around himself. There were bloody smears here and there around the room, and the water in the shower had splattered little crimson trails all across the tiles. Rough, bloody footprints trailed from his abandoned shoes across the floor.

“It’s OK, it’s all mine,” he mumbled.

“And that’s what I’m afraid of! How are ya still standing? I’ll call for Madam Pomfrey-”

“It’s all right, Mike, I’ve already seen her. Look, sorry about the mess, but can you just give me a bit? I’ll get it cleaned up after.”

“Ya won’t, mate, I’ll... aw, just finish yer bath. Give us a shout when yer done, all right?”

“Sure.”

He really didn’t care what he was agreeing to, but it meant that his friend left him alone. He rested his forehead on the cool tiles for a moment to gather his energy, then managed to peel the remainder of his clothing off, leaving it in a sodden pile in the corner of the stall. It was a long time before he felt clean enough to turn off the water and step out again.

He was mopping ineffectively and rather half-heartedly at some of the bloody smears on the floor when the door opened again, and Mike’s hand wrapped gently around his arm. “What are ya doing, ya big arse? Leave that ter me, me lad, it’s done in a second.”

_Scourgify _left the floors spotless and Evan feeling very sheepish, and he let his friend lead him back to his bed.

“Don’t tell them I tucked ya in, or they’ll all be wanting it.”

Evan pulled back the covers and half-collapsed into bed. “Thanks, Mike.”

“As long as you’re all right, mate. What did you get for it?”

“A month’s detention. Oh, and kicked out of the Quidditch team, probably.”

Mike looked at him in silence for a few moments, a few heavy exhalations as he went to speak and changed his mind. Finally, he shook his head and said, “Let’s worry about that on the morrow. Get yerself some sleep, Evan, and I’ll tell the rest ter keep it down, OK?”

“Cheers, mate.”

The hangings were drawn around his bed, and he was asleep within seconds.


	24. A New Day

A hand was shaking his shoulder. “Evan... Evan, come on, mate!”

He made some vague noise of acknowledgement, but his tormentor wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Wake up, mate! You’re going to be late!”

He cracked one eye open to see Chris looking down at him. “Umgph?”

“Sorry, Evan, but you really need to get up. I know you must be feeling rough, but the others are already up and I promised them that we could let you sleep a bit longer and I’d make sure that you won’t be late. If you get a move on, you’ll have time for some brekkie before class.”

Confused protests and denials and complaints bubbled up in his mind, but he forced them away and reluctantly dragged back the covers. With a groan, he smacked his lips and swallowed, then sat up and swung his feet down onto the floor, resting for a moment with his elbows on his knees.

Chris smiled encouragingly and patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Go and dunk your head for a minute and then we’ll get some chow. You must be starving after last night.”

As if woken by the other boy’s words, his stomach growled in agreement. Outnumbered, he gathered up some clothes and headed for the bathroom.

He emerged a few minutes later, dressed approximately correctly, although the knot of his tie was in a sad state, but he felt strangely light-headed and uncoordinated. Chris was still waiting for him.

“Are you ready? Grab your bag and let’s go.”

He hesitated over his bag, unable to get his thoughts together. “What have we got first?”

Chris gave him an odd look. “You’ve got Defence first, then Charms and Magical Creatures.”

“Defence?” he groaned, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Double Defence, yeah. What’s the... oh yeah, Umbridge. They say you had some sort of run-in with her last night, it’s all over the school. Sorry, mate.”

He groaned again, jamming books haphazardly into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, wincing at the twinge from his still-tender back. “Yeah. Still, I might as well get it over with, I guess.”

Chris grinned at him as they started for the door. “Got to beard the troll in her cave, or something.”

“I think I’d prefer a troll, at least you know where you are with them.”

“Yes - usually, lying in several pieces on the floor, saying, ‘Stop gnawing on my leg, you bastard!’ Ah, well. Just imagine her with a beard, instead.”

The common room was packed, and at the sight of him, the general chatter died away. He forced himself to keep a neutral expression and keep walking, but Chris stayed at his elbow and the other seventh-years quickly joined him. Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley held the common room door open, and he was surprised to realise that the rest of the waiting students were falling into step behind them. He passed Owen Summerby and Gwion, who gave him a bracing thump on the back that nearly made him stumble. Leah Harper shoved Gwion back with a fierce look and stretched forward to give Evan a peck on the cheek. Laura Madley waved at him, blushing brightly. He coloured a little in turn, not at the second-year’s enthusiasm, but at the humbling realisation that his house mates were intent on making their own statement.

Despite the supporting flotilla of his housemates, he was exhausted by the time the procession had made its way up to the Great Hall and spread itself along the Hufflepuff table. He was guided to the far side from the Slytherins, and watched them cautiously for a moment before succumbing to the more pressing demands of his stomach and ploughing into a bowl of porridge. There were some evil looks sent his way from the Slytherin table, but most of them simply watched impassively. More than a few of them looked apprehensive, and that may have been to do with the steady stream of friends from the Gryffindor table, with Lee Jordan, Kenny Towler, and Angelina Johnson leading the way, and Trish Stimpson wasn’t far behind. Roger Davies was next, accompanied by about half of Ravenclaw, too. None of them so much as spared a glance at the Slytherin table, just quietly patted him on the back and asked how he was and generally made small talk, but their presence made a point in a way more eloquent than words; they were all behind him. At the staff table, only Professor Sinistra and Professor Babbling were still present, and they were watching the massing of the students with poorly-disguised concern of their own.

Evan was starting to realise the importance of Professor Sprout’s warnings of the previous night; so far, no-one had done anything precipitous, but from some of the expressions around him, that fragile peace may not last forever. Looking at his watch, Evan cleared his throat and picked up a piece of toast. “Thank you, everyone,” he said quietly. With that, he got to his feet and made his way purposefully out of the Great Hall and towards the Defence classroom. To his growing embarrassment, some of the mass of students flooded after him. Evan kept his head down and prayed that no-one would be stupid enough to loose off a spell, well-meaning or otherwise, or there was going to be carnage.

Thankfully, he made it to the Defence classroom without anything - or anyone - exploding. He was funnelled to a seat in the middle row on the right-hand side, surrounded on all sides by his friends from the three non-Slytherin houses. The Slytherins trailed in as a group on the heels of Professor Umbridge. He tried not to pay any particular attention to them, made easier by Chris’ bulky form sitting next to him and blocking him from their direct view, but it was difficult to avoid Miles Bletchley turning in his seat in the front row to glare evilly at him. Evan forced himself not to react, although he noticed his lack of response got a look of cool amusement from Gabriel as he slid into a seat front and centre, as always.

Professor Umbridge settled into the chair behind her desk with the usual fussy shuffling and rustling. Her eyes swept the room, narrowing slightly when they caught and lingered on his, but it was barely a fraction of a second. “Good morning, class!” came the familiar, high-pitched, falsely-saccharine voice that he knew and hated. He said nothing as the class droned its desultory reply, forcing himself to keep his breathing steady and calm. _Power-mad, malevolent old bat. Is evil too strong a word for her? Perhaps. But there are days when you have to wonder._

He continued to ponder that as Professor Umbridge started on the roll, answering his name when it was called, but rather than pass on to Angelina Johnson, Umbridge stopped and spoke to him again. “Ah yes, our trouble-maker. I don’t trust you where you are, Mr. Fielding. In fact, I think it best if you move here in front of me where I can keep an eye on you.”

She pointed peremptorily at an empty chair on the left side of the room immediately in front of her desk. There was a rumble of discontent from around him, almost a warning growl, and he forced back his own anger long enough to push his book back into his bag and get to his feet.

“Right there, Mr. Fielding. Move yourself, you’re holding up the rest of the class. I won’t tolerate any of your usual disruption, or it shall be detention - and you already have plenty to be going on with. Don’t think I won’t add more to it.”

Evan tried to ignore her needling and took the indicated seat - completely co-incidentally away from all his friends and with his back to all the Slytherins, of course - but his jaw was clamped rigidly and the trembling in his hands wasn’t entirely down to the lingering fatigue he felt. Apparently satisfied with treating him like a delinquent primary-schooler, she resumed the roll.

“Samuels... Singh... Spinnet... Stimpson... Taylor?” Umbridge stopped and looked around the classroom ostentatiously, as if expecting Michelle to suddenly rise out of the floor.

“Hospital Wing, Professor,” Tammy said eventually, with a face like thunder.

“Silly girl!” Umbridge tutted, “Don’t tell me she’s still milking that accident to cut class, as well?”

Umbridge was watching him as she spoke, and his blood surged in his ears. Luckily, before he could do anything precipitous, Alicia Spinnet chose that moment to be lavishly and messily sick all over her desk. There were a few squeals of disgust from the girls sitting next to her, and Lee Jordan let out a fluttery sigh and slumped unconscious across his own desk. Kenny Towler leapt to his feet and quickly vanished the vomit.

“Sorry about that, Professor, I don’t know how that keeps happening. All right there, Alicia?”

She raised a pale, sweating face. “Umbridge-itis, definitely. I think someone in here must be a carrier.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Umbridge all but shrieked. “And what about him?” she demanded, pointing at the blissfully-unconscious Lee Jordan.

“Weak constitution,” Alicia groaned. “The first sight of bodily fluids and he’s out like a light.” She paled further and swallowed rapidly, and Angelina quickly conjured a metal pail just in time to receive a second wave of puking. “_Huurrrrrrgh_! Thanks, Ange, you’re a babe,” she added, spitting the aftermath into the noisome bucket as well.

“Professor, I think I should take her to the hospital wing,” Angelina said, getting to her feet and stepping pointedly away from the bucket with a revolted look on her face.

“You’re doing this on purpose, somehow!” Umbridge snarled, stamping her feet in petulant fury. “I _will_ find out how, and you’ll all have detention for the rest of the year if you’re lucky!”

“Come off it, Professor!” Kenny protested, his face the picture of injured innocence, “You can’t pick on people for being ill!”

Lee Jordan stirred and raised a bleary-eyed head. “Ooh, I don’t feel so good. What happened? What’s all the noise?”

Evan tuned out the specifics of the pantomime being enacted in front of him and tried to wrestle his temper back under control. _Merlin, look at her!_ he thought in disgust. _The very picture of wannabe-tyranny through bureaucracy and petty malice. Teacher? She’s an embarrassment and a disgrace of a human being._ A thought flicked into his mind like a light coming on. _So why am I letting her upset me, anyway? I don’t respect her as a teacher, and I sure as hell don’t respect her as a person. All she has is some nominal paper-authority, most of which she’s stolen or made up herself. Another few months, and she’s out of my life forever._ His lips twisted in a sour smile. _It’s a sad state of affairs when a Death Eater in disguise was a better teacher and, superficially at least, a better human being than this idiot._

“Professor, I think maybe I should take him to the hospital wing,” Emma volunteered, her face sheened with sweat and strands of hair sticking to her green-looking face. “I’m not feeling too clever myself.”

Furious beyond words, Umbridge waved them all out. Evan was almost glad when the class subsided into its usual, catatonic silence. Just staring at a page was about all he felt up to doing - and rather than slogging through Slinkhard’s terminally-boring drivel, he could think of Michelle, instead, and will time to pass faster.

* * * * *

Evan forced himself to wait until lunch before stepping in to the hospital wing to see Michelle. She was looking much better, although she greeted him with an angry scowl when he put his head around the curtain.

“So, you just needed a bit of a check-over, did you?” she growled in a low voice. “I’m not surprised, given that Mike told me you bled half to death!”

He winced. “It wasn’t-,” He caught himself before he said it wasn’t that bad, and changed tack, letting the words go with a soft exhalation. “Professor Sprout had sorted me out by then, anyway. Madam Pomfrey really did just need to check me over, and I didn’t want to worry you.”

She let out a sharp, angry breath, and looked away from him, although he thought the rigid way she held herself relaxed a little. Cautiously, he stepped closer, and somehow he ended up sitting on the side of her bed with her arms wrapped around him, and his around her, almost before he could blink.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

Her arms tightened. “Oh, stop it, you know I can’t be angry with you like this,” she muttered gruffly.

Wisely, he kept his mouth shut. Perhaps it was a sign of how peeved she was that it was a very long time before her grip slackened and they both sat back.

“So. What did Mike tell you?”

She looked down, and a lock of her hair swung forward to hang along her cheek. He had to resist the strongest urge to brush it back behind her ear. “He and Tammy came up before breakfast to tell me you probably wouldn’t be up to see me. Of course, I wanted to know why they felt they had to come and tell me that, and…”

Evan sighed tiredly. “He was looking for a reaction all weekend. Every time I was out of the common room, he seemed to pop up with a gang of his mates and make sure I knew. Which is mad, really, because everyone else could see it, too, and I actually had to talk people out of going after him.”

“And then he pushed his luck too far.”

“Not exactly my finest moment, perhaps. I don’t know, it’s words, and I ought to be above that.”

She looked up at him again, and shrugged. “Mike said Warrington got what he was asking for, and he’s lucky you didn’t give him more of a hiding.”

“Still. Well, I’ll have some nice, long detentions to think about that. At least they’ll be with Professor McGonagall.”

She tilted her head curiously, “Not Umbridge?”

“No. That didn’t stop her trying to wind me up this morning, though. I was glad of the usual song-and-dance breaking out. Did you see Alicia and Lee?”

“Yeah, and Kenny stopped in with me for a bit, too. You know, you could just not go. It’s not like you’d be missing anything.”

He let out a sour puff of amusement. “I’ve come this far, I might as well just play the game to the end. All I have to do is turn up, ignore her, and pretend to read a book.”

“Well, true, I suppose.” Michelle let out a quiet giggle, “Alicia was telling me that she just transfigures one of her paperbacks to look like Slinkhard’s book. She’s got through the whole _Sands of Destiny _series since Christmas!”

That made him snort with laughter. “Really? It’s hard to see Alicia being into soppy bodice-rippers!”

“Hey, they’re not that bad!” she protested, grinning. “And they’re fun, which is the main thing.”

He shook his head, not trying to hide his smile. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Hey, guys. Room for a few more?”

They looked up to see Chris, Becky, Maxi, and Ravi looking in on them.

“We brought lunch,” said Becky, nodding at the platter of sandwiches in her hands.

“An’ we even kept Ravi from eatin’ it on the way here,” added Maxi, arching an eyebrow.

“And which one of us brought dessert?” Ravi demanded from behind a tray of cakes and muffins. “Clearly, you’re not planning on getting any.”

“Which he clearly would never do, being so kind an’ generous, an’ all,” Maxi said, without missing a beat.

“Not to mention devastatingly handsome, too!” Becky giggled.

They quickly rearranged things so that they could all sit and talk and eat, and although they tried to keep it down out of respect for Madam Pomfrey’s sensitive ear for noise, it turned into something of a party. Michelle looked bright and cheerful, and the only time her smile faded was when Chris asked, “So she is letting you out today, right?”

Michelle sighed, and slumped back against her pillows. “Tomorrow. I really don’t know why, I mean, I feel fine, now.” She looked around the others and smiled. “Better now, too.”

Her eyes lingered on his, and he felt the usual jolt of connection run through him.

“That might be because of yesterday,” Chris was saying. “Maybe the teachers want everything to cool off a little.”

He dragged his eyes away from hers with a small grimace. “Maybe. If so, then it’s my fault you’re stuck here. Sorry, Michelle.”

“That’s it, leave me all alone here, with no one to talk to,” she said lightly. “You’ll all be off having so much fun in class.”

“Oh, yes, _so _much fun,” said Becky. Her eyes darted to the curtained-off bed by the Matron’s office. “I take it Montague isn’t the most thrilling conversationalist?”

Michelle shuddered. “I’ve had nothing to do with him, and I’m more than happy for it to stay that way. He hasn’t bothered me, and thankfully his mates haven’t, either.”

“He does get visitors, then?”

“Warrington, mostly. I-I’ve heard him, but I haven’t seen him. It’s a good reason to keep the curtain around. Madam Pomfrey tends to stick very close to him when he’s here.”

There was only the smallest tremor in her voice, but the others exchanged a look, and Becky grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Unfortunately, we really do need to think about getting to class,” said Ravi, glancing down at his watch.

“Thanks for lunch, everyone,” said Michelle. Her eyes found Evan’s again. “Are you coming back after class?”

“Maybe a bit later, we’re going to head to the library and try to get some stuff finished. If we get everything done, I’ll run up and see you before dinner, all right?” He made a face. “I’ve got detention to look forward to after that.”

“Okay. Have a good afternoon, and I’ll see you then.”

* * * * *

After class, the Hufflepuffs all made for the library to catch up on references and return library books and generally try to tidy up their notes and homework. Chris and Ravi were done first, and Tammy wasn’t but gave up and went and joined the Ravenclaws in the far corner grumbling about Ancient Runes. Mike and Maxi disappeared off into the stacks, somewhere, leaving Evan working with Becky on the theory behind human partial and complete transfiguration.

“I don’t think that can work without running into one of Gamp’s Laws, so-” Becky broke off and looked over his shoulder. He half-turned to see Gabriel approaching him, his face as calm and unreadable as ever.

“Ah, there you are, Fielding,” he said in his familiar, dry voice. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Hi, Gabriel. What’s up?”

His Slytherin friend made an uncharacteristic grimace and gestured vaguely with one hand, “Oh, this and that, and about half of Slytherin House. Sorry, Blake, but can I talk to him alone?”

Becky crossed her arms and leaned back to glare at him. “Oh, I don’t think so, Engel.”

Gabriel simply looked at her. “If I wanted that sort of mindless antagonism, I’d go and find some Gryffindors,” he said disdainfully.

“Will we do, instead?” said a pair of voices in unison. Two familiar figures linked an arm through each of Gabriel’s and forcefully sat him in a vacant chair, standing at his shoulders.

Gabriel straightened his robes with a long-suffering sigh. “Truly, all human life is here, but the love appears to be somewhere else. What do you two want?”

“We might ask ya the same question,” said Mike, with a hard, humourless smile.

“Aye, any number of yer housemates would like to get Evan on his lonesome, right now,” said Maxi. If anything, she looked even more fearsome than her boyfriend.

Evan restrained a groan of frustration. “Guys, can we not? Please? Gabriel’s a friend of mine.”

“Oh, aye? An’ how sure of that are ya?”

“Very,” he said simply, holding Maxi’s eyes.

Gabriel didn’t turn a hair at the unspoken threats. “Touching as this is, the goon squad can probably hear this, if they really must. It’s not like it’s going to be a great surprise.”

“Good. Then it won’t be a surprise that we were plannin’ on it.”

Mike and Maxi grabbed chairs from a nearby table and took a seat on either side of Gabriel. They were rather uncomfortably close and probably meant to intimidate him, but as ever, his cool demeanour never changed.

“I’m shocked,” Gabriel said drily. “Well. That happened. Cassius Warrington got a nose about three feet wide, and he’s not a happy bunny.”

“That’s the least he deserves!” Becky snarled, glaring daggers at the boy. “That poor girl nearly died!”

“I’m not going to disagree with you,” Gabriel began, only for the others to cut him off.

“Yeah, right!” came the disbelieving snort.

Gabriel glared at them with immense disdain. “Couldn’t you have found some slightly more intelligent friends, Fielding? Maybe a flobberworm or two?”

With a sigh, Evan dragged his hands through his hair and then held them up placatingly. “Maybe if we all stopped sniping at each other for five seconds, that’d help. And unless we want to get slung out by Madam Pince, we’d do well to keep it down a little. Still, that’s not why you’re here, Gabriel. Even a poor, dumb Hufflepuff like me could tell Warrington’s going to have a grudge to nurse.”

“Apparently, it needs to be said to some of the others who have imposed themselves on us. For the avoidance of doubt and for the benefit of the terminally hard-of-understanding, I do not condone what Warrington did to that girl. It was cruel, brutal, and barbaric. I don’t care what the politics of it is. I am not a sadist, and have no time for those who get off on inflicting pain on others. I didn’t realise that Taylor had it in her to intervene, though. Perhaps all those years moping after you has rubbed off on the poor girl, Evan. Either way, he deserved a little back of what he dished out. You have two problems.”

Evan cracked a small smile, “Only two?”

“Let’s not overtax your poor, dumb, Hufflepuff brain more than strictly necessary. As I was saying, you have two problems. The first is perhaps the more complex. Simply put, you humiliated him in front of his house. He will feel that he has to avenge that, almost as much as he does for the assault.”

“That’s not exactly an enormous surprise, but I don’t give a damn for his ego.”

Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement. “The real issue is that some people from my house will feel the need to aid in any scheme for revenge, as it’s a matter of honour for our house to support our own.”

“As if they wouldn’t, anyway!” Becky muttered, although her face had got a little more thoughtful as Gabriel spoke.

“Clearly, some of you would be surprised to learn that Slytherin isn’t actually the Scottish branch of the Death Eater Youth. Not all of us support the old Dark Lord’s ideals - far from it. This brings me on to your second problem, which is those of us who do. There are some unfortunate influences within our house.”

“Malfoy,” Mike sneered in disgust.

“Yes, Malfoy - but not necessarily in the way in which you think. Consider Mr. Malfoy for a minute. What comes to mind?”

“He’s a spoilt, nasty wee brat with raging daddy issues.”

“Precisely. A malevolent, immature, attention-seeking loudmouth, who’s not nearly as clever as he thinks himself. Be very grateful for that, by the way. He, himself, is not a particularly important threat. He’s remarkably short of subtlety and cunning for someone who’s supposed to be a Slytherin, and is something of a coward. It’s what he represents that’s more dangerous. He equates bullying and violence with power, because that’s all he knows. None of this is news to you.”

“Well, I guess not. Where are you going with this, Gabriel?” said Evan.

Gabriel leaned forward, his hands making small, precise gestures in emphasis. “What he does have is the Malfoy name. With that comes money and, most importantly, access. His family has ties to many of the other old families, who have the same. The Malfoys and their friends have influence in the Ministry and, if the rumours are correct, maybe even with darker elements, too. Do you see, now? Being on the good side of Malfoy Junior and his old-money chums gives you an ‘in’ to all of these things. That means aping the attitudes they half-believe in, anyway. Blood Rights, and other nonsense. That means bullying and violence, because otherwise they will be seen as weak and therefore not one of the group.”

“I think you’re letting them off rather lightly, there. They’re still responsible for what they’re doing.”

“And you’re correct. As I said, they have leanings towards this sort of thing anyway, but their ambitions and the pressure from their peers only drives these more. Worse, they compete for status within the group. You have not just a violent enemy, Evan, you have a motivated one, as well. Cassius cannot let your affront pass because of what it costs him in social terms - and that’s before you bring his personal pride into question.”

Evan chewed his lip thoughtfully. “That means you’re taking quite a risk, here, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, consorting with the enemy and everything. What’s in it for you?” said Mike coldly.

“Guys-”

“My self-respect,” Gabriel snapped icily.

“And that’s enough to rat out your fellow Slytherins?”

“OK, that’ll do! Get off his back, or leave!”

“I do not share their ambitions!” Gabriel snarled back, his usual sang-froid absent. “They would usher in a world of bully-boys and slaves, but they are too short-sighted and too stupid to realise that they would be nothing more than cannon-fodder, expendable foot-soldiers to the old Dark Lord’s madness! He demonstrated time and again that he only valued people by their worth to him - and the purity of their ancestry did not save them the second they ceased to be useful! They do not realise that they will be readily sacrificed to their revolution, not leading it in safety like the old families they fawn after.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and when he continued, his voice was calm and analytical again.

“There is a certain equality in magic. The purity of your heritage does not correlate to magical power, only social influence. Indeed, generations of marrying their cousins does not seem to have done some of the old families many favours for their intelligence. Our defining characteristic is magic, not who slept with whom, once upon a time. I would rather see a world organised by competence and fairness, not a closed cabal of self-interested, hidebound anachronisms.”

There was a long silence before Mike and Maxi exchanged a look, and nodded. “Well said,” Maxi said quietly.

“Evan was right, though - you’re taking a hell of a risk, being seen with him,” Mike added.

Gabriel sighed, “Yes and no. My position is well-known in my House, and therefore I have no social standing with the old families and their hangers-on, anyway.” He snorted sardonically, “They sit there, and they obsess over bloodlines and ancient history. What the likes of Warrington don’t seem to realise is that they will never be considered as equals with the likes of Malfoy because somewhere back in time one of their ancestors married a Muggleborn. They are denied by something they have no control over.”

“And they still think it’s enough to hurt people for,” Mike said in disgust.

“And thus, they are dangerous,” Gabriel agreed.

Evan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “A question, Gabriel. Why? Why tear up some young girl like that, no matter what her heritage?”

Gabriel shook his head and blew out a long breath. “Just what I was just telling you - pride and status and social standing. Cassius Warrington has a sister in fourth year. For reasons I’m not entirely clear on, she crossed paths with Carrie Greenhalgh after Christmas and started something of a feud. She probably fancied her chances against a third-year, but one thing led to another, and when Alexandra Warrington decided to put her in her place in a stand-up duel, she got her arse handed to her. By a third-year. By a _Muggleborn _third-year. Well, she was never going to be able to let that pass, so she tried to ambush Greenhalgh behind the Herbology greenhouses last weekend. Guess what happened next?”

“Carrie won?”

“Correct. Greenhalgh kicked her arse again, and Alexandra became something of a laughing-stock in Slytherin. It looks like Big Brother decided he needed to avenge her honour. Presumably, that’s what Taylor walked in on, and the result is the mess up on the seventh floor.”

Evan swore quietly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Marvellous! Now what?”

“No doubt Cassius Warrington congratulates himself on proving his towering superiority by beasting a third year,” Gabriel sneered, before his voice sobered. “And then, Evan, I’m afraid he’s going to come after you - and I doubt he’ll be alone. I would like to say that I’ll warn you if I hear anything, but they know that we’re friendly and may seek to use that against us. Well, they will if someone smarter than Warrington gets involved, anyway.”

“He’ll have backup,” Mike said adamantly.

“And lots of it,” Becky added. “All of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor will be watching his back.”

“Then I hope it’s enough. You will have an additional advantage in that the teachers are on your side, too.”

“Not all of them,” Evan said sourly.

“Yeah, I haven’t exactly seen Snape looking distraught about it,” added Mike.

“You’d be surprised. It’s taken as a given that there’s always a certain amount of niggle between Slytherin and the other houses, but Warrington’s gone so far beyond that, he’s created something of a crisis. There’s a girl in St. Mungo’s, and Muggleborn or not, questions are being asked. Umbridge may be desperately trying to brush everything under the carpet so that her tacit approval of Warrington and the Inquisitorial Squad’s antics doesn’t come to light, but that’s not going to wash here at school. Ravenclaw are up in arms because one of their own has been ambushed and thrashed to within an inch of her life, and Taylor tried to stop it and got some pretty brutal treatment herself. So Hufflepuff will be right behind Taylor, and Gryffindor hardly need an excuse to come down on the side of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.”

“Ha! Yer right there, so y’ are.”

“So Umbridge trying to ignore it and hope it goes away means that Fielding has just sounded the starter’s wand for this to get very messy, and that sort of open warfare is exactly what the teachers want to prevent. Professor Snape laid down the law last night, and he was very clear - no-one is to do _anything_ that might cause this situation to continue.”

“You mean, don’t get caught,” Becky said darkly.

“No, not even don’t get caught. It is to be allowed to die down and blow over. We may defend ourselves if necessary, but that necessity will be given the strongest scrutiny.”

“You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe,” Maxi snorted.

“I’m not saying Professor Snape is happy about it, but Warrington has put him in an impossible position. The alternative could mean someone gets badly hurt, very quickly, no matter which side they’re on.”

“So, if any sort of retaliation is forbidden, what was the point of all those dire warnings, just now?” Becky asked.

“Because although Professor Snape is a teacher and Head of House, it can’t be guaranteed that everyone will listen. You really think some arrogant little snot like Malfoy is going to be told what to do by a teacher?”

“Probably not, Evan sighed. “OK, so who do I especially need to watch out for?”

“You probably know that, anyway. Warrington and Bletchley, especially, Urquhart and Vaisey a little less so. Pucey will keep out of it, as usual. Then anyone that hangs around with Malfoy.”

“What about the girls?”

“Why, Mr. Fielding! Straying from the fold, are we? Taylor will be heartbroken!” Gabriel said drily. Evan hid a grin, and Mike laughed aloud, but Becky looked unimpressed. “Halkett is still grovelling after Bletchley, but otherwise you’re probably pretty safe, actually. Well, except around Donna Robards, of course.”

“Donna? I thought she was OK?” said Becky. “I’ve always got on with her all right?”

Gabriel’s sly grin widened. “Oh, she’s got no time for any of that Pureblood nonsense. Let’s just say that Evan has a very enthusiastic admirer, if rumours are to be believed.”

Evan tried to ignore that. Donna was pretty harmless, but… no. Just no. “So in other words, most of the males in fifth, sixth, and seventh years.”

“Not quite, but it may not be a bad rule of thumb. I trust you’ll make a small exception here and there, though?”

“Feeling lonely, Gabriel?”

Gabriel’s grin slowly faded and his face sobered. “I think it’s Warrington you’ve probably got to look out for most. I don’t say this lightly, but I really do think there’s something wrong with him. He’s gone completely off the rails since Montague was hurt.”

“Yeah, I saw that up on the seventh floor. You don’t do that sort of thing to someone unless you’ve got a few screws loose. You know, nothing personal, Gabriel, but there does seem to be a startling number of psychos and dickheads in your House around these few years. It’s like they were breeding them, or something.

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you expect? Everyone thought the Dark Lord was going to win. Happy fun times for the Blood Supremacists. I presume it must have been happy, sexy fun times, as well. Let’s have children so we can bring them up in the glorious, arrogant, Muggle-hating new world that’s just around the corner.”

“Yeah, and then Harry Potter happened,” said Becky.

“Something of a disappointment for them, yes.”

“So that’s Snape trying to calm things down, but there’s someone else they’ll all go running to instead, and I don’t see her looking too concerned by any of this beyond for appearances’ sake.”

Gabriel hesitated. “I have to say, I really do not understand Dolores Umbridge at all. Superficially so obsessed by rule and order, but underneath it, just… just petty malice, almost like a child.”

“She’s definitely the weird, ‘Pulls wings off flies’, sort of child,” said Becky, with a shudder. “I think that’s what makes the kitten thing so creepy. I hate to think what she’d do if she had to cope with an actual, live kitten.”

“It wouldn’t end well for the kitten, anyway.”

“It’s not going so well for us, either,” said Evan. “You know, it’s really quite something when someone is able to make you think nostalgically back to having an old Death Eater for a teacher, instead.”

That got a few sour chuckles, and Mike said, “Yeah, Moody or whoever he was may’ve been a lunatic, but he surely taught us more’n anyone else, barrin’ Professor Lupin.”

“That’s really not saying much for the quality of a Hogwarts education, is it?” Gabriel said archly. “Anyway, Evan - be careful. And, for Merlin’s sake, make sure you look after Taylor when she gets out.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said quietly.

“An’ we’ll be right behind them, never fear,” Maxi added softly. “Thanks, Engel.”

* * * * *

Evan tapped on the door of the Transfiguration classroom and let himself in, and Professor McGonagall glanced up briefly from her desk at the far end, surrounded by piles of parchment, before her eyes returned to their work.

“Good evening, Professor McGonagall.”

There was a brief pause until her quill skittered to a halt and she looked up sternly at him over the top of half-moon glasses. “Mr. Fielding. You are a few minutes early, but we may as well get started. You may seat yourself wherever you wish.”

There seemed little point in hiding at the back, so he walked up to the front and found a desk in front of hers, folding himself into the familiar, uncomfortable wooden seat. She watched him with her usual severe, pointed gaze for nearly a minute. Normally, it would make those with a guilty conscience squirm, but he was feeling remarkably guilt-free, and simply met her eyes calmly and waited.

“Have you finished the essay I set in class this morning?”

“Not yet, Professor.”

She nodded sharply, “I suppose I did give you until next week. You will need your textbook and a quill, I would suggest, Mr. Fielding.”

With that, she returned to her marking, and after a moment’s surprise, Evan began to dig through his bag. _If this is what detention’s going to be, I can live with it. It’ll keep Umbridge off both our backs, it won’t inconvenience Professor McGonagall too much, and it’s pretty much what I would be doing anyway. It could be a lot worse._

He heard a loud crash in the near distance, followed by peals of mad laughter.

“Oh dear. Peeves is at it again,” came a murmur from the front. “It’s such a shame that ghosts aren’t part of my subject matter, or I would be forced to deal most severely with him.”

Evan looked up at her in surprise, but the Professor simply turned over another piece of parchment and continued marking.

He could have absolutely sworn there was the faintest, satisfied smile on her face.

* * * * *

The next morning was an ongoing disaster, as if the tensions that had been running high over the last week all boiled over at once. Threats and insults were exchanged, spells and Stinkpellets flew in the corridors, and one Ravenclaw boy even blacked his friend’s eye after a friendly-fire incident with a Bubotuber and an improvised catapult. And above it all, Peeves continued to wreak havoc in the way that only a truly determined poltergeist could. The prefects and the seventh-years - that Kenny Towler had irreverently christened Roger’s Irregulars as a nod to Dumbledore's Army - were overwhelmed in trying to keep the peace, especially with the Inquisitorial Squad demonstrating their remarkable lack of tact and diplomacy, and often a willingness to add to the chaos.

To his immense frustration, Evan was not being allowed to help his friends, either. He found himself shepherded between classes by at least three bodyguards, sometimes more. On one level, he could understand that they wanted to keep him safe and especially stop him being a target, but it was hard to be shut out when he saw Maxi storming towards the hospital wing in a towering rage with a thick beard of tentacles on her face after a confused blow-up between some fourth-years, the Goon Squad, and her and Mike’s efforts to calm things down that saw wands drawn and spells flying indiscriminately.

About the only place he was left alone was in the hospital wing itself. It was annoying the way his friends refused to intrude on his visits with Michelle - but he had to admit he was grateful, all the same.

“It’s been absolute bloody carnage out there, today,” he sighed to her after class. “You’ve probably seen them all trailing in and out of here, I suppose, but it’s been a nightmare.”

“Yeah, Madam Pomfrey’s been rushed off her feet. I feel bad about still being here,” Michelle admitted. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, dressed in her school uniform and swinging her legs idly.

“Well, how much longer are you stuck here?”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and gave him an embarrassed half-smile. “She said I could go when you came to get me.”

He chuckled, “If I’d known that, I’d have been up here earlier.”

Her cheeks pinked, but she turned to watch him closely, her dark eyes serious.

“You look pretty hacked off.”

For a second he was going to deny it, then gave up. She patted the bed beside her, and after a brief hesitation, he turned and hoisted himself up to sit next to her. _How many times have we done this over the years?_

“I just can’t help but think this is my fault. Some of it, anyway,” he admitted quietly.

“Why, because you stood up to Warrington? There’s no end of other things people have been boiling over about all year. You know that.”

“I shouldn’t have belted him. I know that, even if he wanted that reaction. Even if he deserved it, and it _was _bloody satisfying on some level I probably shouldn’t admit to. Yes, a lot of things have come to a head, but I do feel like I’ve kicked off a lot of the physical confrontations. Now, you’ve got second-years picking fights with the Inquisitorial Squad to be ‘Just like Fielding’. Can you believe that? Vinu was telling me that some dopey little Ravenclaw kid was actually boasting about it! Never mind that Madam Pomfrey had to just about re-attach her arms and legs by the time they’d finished with her. And I can’t help but wonder if it isn’t my fault that kid got hurt.”

She was watching him carefully, her mouth slightly open but holding her reply until he’d finished. Her eyes, so warm and caring that it _hurt_, even if he couldn’t drag himself away from their depths.

“So what are you going to do?”

_That’s the big question_. Now, he looked away. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what I _can _do. It’s blown up into something much bigger than just us against Warrington, and I hope there’s a way to calm things down again before someone gets properly hurt. Like you, like Carrie.”

“It’s a bit late for that, and that was well before you did anything.” Gentle fingers touched his chin, feather-like but irresistible all the same, turning his face back to hers. She smiled tentatively, “Maybe you’re not as perfect as you think you should be. None of us are. You can’t control what others do, Evan.”

“I’ve not controlled what I do all that well, either.”

“Then you remember that, and you start again. ‘Herbology is a lot like life’, to quote Professor Sprout. ‘You work out what you did wrong, and then you try again’.”

That made him smile. “For Professor Sprout, most things are like Herbology, though.”

“That’s true! What did she come up with in class today?”

He could tell that she was trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction, and was glad to go with it. “Well, there were no more _bon mots_ about life, but she did suggest that we probably really ought to study up on the Venomous Tentacula ahead of exams.”

“Well, good to know. And then you had Defence, I suppose. Did Umbridge have a rush of blood to the head and come out with anything useful?”

“You must be joking! And quite honestly, at this point I’d like to take a Venomous Tentacula and ram it right up her-”

“Evan!” Michelle giggled, “How could you be so vicious and cruel to the poor Tentacula?”

“Not to mention those of us that would have to remove said Tentacula,” came Madam Pomfrey’s stern voice. The curtains rattled as they were pulled all the way back, leaving the tired and harassed-looking figure of the Matron. She did summon a small smile, though. “You’re free to go, Miss Taylor. Mr. Fielding, look after her.”

Michelle jumped quickly down, and scooped up her bag from under the bed, obviously eager to make her escape. “Thanks for patching me up, and everything.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Taylor, and I hope I don’t have to do it again.”

Evan followed her out into the corridor, but he grabbed her sleeve before she could set off, and she looked back at him enquiringly, a broad smile on her face. He tried to pull himself together, and took a deep breath. “Look, before we head back to the common room, d’you mind if we go somewhere and talk? I think there’s a few things I need to get out in the open.”

Her smile faded a few notches, taking on a hint of curiosity and a dash of apprehension. “Um… OK. Where do you want to go?”

“It’s actually pretty nice outside. The willow? That way, at least you’d get some fresh air and sunshine.”

The cheer bloomed on her face again. “That sounds pretty good, after being cooped up in here for so long.”

_It’s on. It’s happening_. He needed another deep breath. “Let’s go, then.”


	25. Everything Has Changed

They walked side-by-side across the lawn, heading for the lake and the spot that had been their own space for so many years. The willow was budding again, rose-coloured catkins swelling to make rivulets of colour amidst the greenery. Michelle took a seat on the fallen log, facing out over the lake, while Evan shrugged her bag off his shoulder and leaned against the bole of the tree, his eyes watching the ripple of the water while she watched him.

“So, then,” she said, her voice unsteady around the edges despite her best efforts. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Lots of things. Maybe it’s been unsaid for a while, now, but after the last week or so... I think it needs to be said.” He glanced over at her with a fleeting smile, “We’ve been friends for quite a while, now, haven’t we?”

“Yeah. First full day at Hogwarts.” She smiled at the memory; Tammy, Mike, Helga, Cedric, and Maxi going mad in the common room. Feeling shy and homesick, she had her nose buried in a book, but what she had really wanted was to go home - or at least, to go and hide in her dorm. That was until a tall, skinny, fellow first year came and sat next to her. ‘Don’t mind them, they’re just a bit excited.’ His voice had been quiet and gentle, but even so, she had wanted to flee. He didn’t say anything more, though, until she peeked carefully over and caught his eye. He didn’t look directly at her, but she could tell he had seen by the small smile that formed. ‘I’m Evan’. Reluctantly, she had given him her name in a whisper, expecting that to trigger more questions, but he just nodded and let her be, sitting companionably in silence. They had exchanged a small grin when the others got slung out to take it outside by a disgruntled seventh-year prefect, but that was the total of their interaction. The next day in Charms, however, the only free seat was next to that same, quiet boy, and the practical part of the lesson paired them together. They had come a long way since then.

“And here we are, coming up to our last day at Hogwarts,” he sighed. The silence stretched out, and she let it grow. He was still leaning against the tree, but his stance was so rigid that the impression was anything but casual. He took a deep breath and turned to face her fully, “When I saw you up there in that corridor, Michelle... it nearly killed me. I couldn’t, I just... and then, up in the hospital wing...,” His breath left him in a rush, and he looked up at her helplessly. She felt a sharp, gut-churning twist of empathy. Maybe the words wouldn't come, but she could read everything she needed to know in his eyes. It wasn’t a decision, more like an instinct when she stood and took tentative steps towards him.

“I meant everything I said up in the hospital wing, Evan.” She was proud that her voice only wavered a little.

His eyes skittered away from hers, his voice husky. “I hated leaving you.”

She took the last step towards him and raised her hand, gently turning his face back towards her, desperately hoping he could read the sincerity in her eyes. “I know - but I was safe, and it was the right thing to do. You were there when I needed you, and I didn’t want anyone else but you.” She smiled at him, her eyes filling as her fingers drifted feather-like down his cheek. “You called me ‘Sweetheart’. And when I said, ‘Good’, I meant every bit of it. I love you, Evan. Even if it’s taken me so long to actually say it.”

He closed his eyes, his long fingers wrapping around hers, and leaned into her caress. “I was beginning to lose hope that you ever would,” he whispered.

Ice-blue eyes opened and met hers, so electrifyingly close while her heart was somewhere up in the stratosphere on wings of giddy elation. “When did you first realise?”

“I don’t know. Fourth year, I think. Maybe third year? You were never really _just _a friend, but I chalked it up as ‘best friend’ for a while until I got old enough to know what it meant. You?”

_Fourth year? _Third _year? All this time... How in Merlin’s name..._

“Michelle?”

His amused voice jerked her out of her thoughts to see the warmth and laughter and _love _in his eyes. “Sorry! It’s just... really? All this time?”

He just shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You must have wanted to strangle me, sometimes!”

He laughed, sending another jolt of joy through her heart. “I did wonder whether it was just me being a teenager, at first. After a while, I was pretty sure you felt the same, but you didn’t seem to want to take it any further. I just thought that I should trust you to sort your feelings out and you’d let me know when you were ready.”

“And if I was never ready?”

“Then I would still be your best friend, and I’d just have to live with it. That was the theory, anyway, but this year has been... hard. It’s our last year, and maybe I was worried that after this we’d just drift away from each other when school ends. This last week or so convinced me that I couldn’t let it go any longer without doing _something_. So, yeah. Here we are.”

“I don’t know if I should scream at myself that I took so long, or what!”

“Without wanting to be rude, you’ve never liked change much, Michelle.”

“I guess. But it’s not just change. Evan, I... you’re right. I’ve known that I love you for ages, but that just terrified me.”

The admission startled him, and he looked at her blankly. “Terrified... why was that?”

She took a deep breath. _This is it. Don’t back out on this now_. “Look, I wanted you so badly, but... but what would happen if we were together for a week and decided that it just didn’t work? What then? Could we go back to being friends? What if we never talked again? What if we ended up hating each other?”

He was silent for a long while. “That’s the risk that everyone takes, though,” he said tentatively.

“I know,” she said, twisting in anxiety, “But this isn’t just another friend, Evan - it’s _you_, and I don’t think I could handle that.”

He dipped his head to be sure he was looking in her eyes. “To look at it from the other side, we know each other better than almost anyone else starting out does. We’ve already seen each other do stupid things, and have bad hair days, and had arguments, and so on. We’ve seen each other at the bad times as well as the good times, and we’re still here together. The only danger is that we expect everything to change, now.”

She felt an incredible wave of relief. _Yeah. Yeah, that’s right! Maybe this will work_! She grinned impishly, “I can think of a few things that will have to change!”

He grinned, “You know what I mean. We’re both still going to be the same people - but there’s going to be a few added benefits. Like this,” he added. He leaned forward, bringing his lips to hers experimentally.

She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily, shivering in delight and desire. They parted for a moment, breath shuddering, and the look in his eyes made her legs shake.

“Not bad, Mr. Fielding,” she said huskily. “Needs a lot of work, though.”

With that, she pushed forward into his embrace, kissing him passionately, and her heart nearly exploded to feel him reciprocate, to feel his hands on her waist before one slid slowly, deliciously up her back, cupping the back of her head, his fingers in her hair. Her daring and forwardness shocked her, but her only coherent thoughts were a delirious, _Yes! Yes! More!_

Some indeterminate time later, she pulled back, her heart racing and her breathing ragged as if she’d just run a race. Evan was wide-eyed and tousle-haired, looking hungrily into her eyes, and she knew that she must look much the same. Even through his jumper, she could feel the muscle in his chest and arms, and her hands itched to seek out the skin underneath and feel the smooth warmth-

“You OK, there?”

Evan’s voice broke her out of her increasingly-lusty thoughts, and she blushed. “Yeah. I think I could get used to that. _Very_ used to that.”

His eyes sparkled. “Me, too.”

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward into his embrace again, and felt his arms wrap around her, and the faint scrape of his stubble on her cheek.

“You never answered the question,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“What question?”

“When did you make up your mind? About us, I mean?”

“Oh. That. I think like you it was floating around for the longest time, but the summer before fifth year for sure, I think. It took me a while to get used to the idea. After we got back to school, it never quite seemed like the right time and O.W.L.s and I kept putting it off. You know those stupid little deals you make with yourself when you want to procrastinate? Like, if I get an E on this test, then I’ll skip homework on Saturday and spend the day in Hogsmeade, that sort of thing? I did a lot of that.”

“Then there was the Yule Ball last year.”

She let her head fall onto his shoulder and shook it ruefully. “Ah yes, the Ball. The bloody Ball! I was absolutely, definitely, _positively_, going to tell you how I felt at the Ball. Oh, I was so nervous beforehand that I was nearly sick, but then, when we actually got there, I had such a great time with you that… I forgot. Can you believe that? I forgot. How dumb am I?”

He chuckled, gently stroking her hair. “Hey, I got a goodnight kiss,” he pointed out.

“You did - and then, like a moron, I went back to my dorm in what was probably an absolutely sickening puddle of joy... and I realised that I’d managed to bugger it all up. I can’t imagine what you made of it all, but I just wanted to scream.”

“Me? He turned his head to whisper in her ear, his warm breath tickling her cheek seductively, “You looked gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, and you were so happy and seemed to be having such a great time that I didn’t want to ruin it. So I went back to my dorm and had a shower. A very long, very, _very _cold shower, where I tried not to think about doing this-”

He nibbled gently on her earlobe, making her gasp.

“-or this.”

His lips found her neck, drawing a shiver and a small, eager moan.

“Evan...!” she gasped, unable to gather her thoughts sufficiently to decide if that was a ‘Stop!’ or a ‘More!’. Another cheeky, tantalising kiss, and she was definitely leaning towards the latter, but he relented, grinning innocently. “This is what I’ve been missing out on?” she said faintly, when she had her breath back.

He laughed. “This is fun! We should definitely do this more often.”

She stared at him in wonder and not a little lust, panting, her eyes huge. “Evan,” she managed in a shaking voice, “We might want to be careful about that, or I’m going to do something that I really, _really_ want to do.”

For a second, his lips parted as though he was going to speak. She was already bracing herself for the teasing that she knew was inevitable when his grin slowly faded. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

She smiled unsteadily and kissed the backs of the fingers that touched her cheek. “Never better. I just need to get used to this.”

She took a deep breath and forced herself to take a step away from him, turning to face out over the water. Although she yearned for his touch - frighteningly so, after just a few moments - she felt a rush of gratitude that he let her go, giving her time to find her equilibrium again. _Incredible how just a few words can send your whole world reeling. Incredible, and wonderful beyond belief - and terrifying. If it was anyone other than Evan... well, that’s the point, isn’t it? It _is _Evan. Who else would I trust like this? Who else could I love like this?_ She sighed pensively. _He was right, earlier; we know each other so well. And I should have trusted him sooner._

She stared blindly out across the lake, lost in her thoughts until she felt a strong shiver run down her back.

“Are you cold?”

She glanced back over her shoulder. Evan had backed away a few paces after she’d turned from him, but he was still there watching and waiting for her. “Yeah, I am a bit.”

She heard his footfalls in the grass, and then his arms enveloped her, drawing her gently back against him. She half-tensed, expecting more of the dizzying, intoxicating rush that his lips had inspired in her, but instead he simply held her, his head resting gently against hers, and she slowly relaxed. _Incredible how one person can stir such primal feelings one moment, and such peace and safety the next_. She put her hands on his arms where they crossed in front of her and thought about that, too.

“I should have done something after the Ball, of course, but I was so bloody mortified at myself! Then I got the ‘flu, and with schoolwork and everything it sort of got away from me. I let it go, too, if I’m honest. Finally, I told myself that I’d talk to you after the Triwizard Tournament was finally over.” At the mention of the Tournament, she felt him stiffen. “And then... and then, Cedric happened, and... well. Everyone was so devastated and it just wasn’t the time, you know? Even over the summer, it was fantastic to be able to see you once we’d got our apparition licenses, but I knew you were still hurting. And you were still hurting when we got back to school, too.” She heard an intake of breath, like he was going to protest, and hurried on. “Evan, you were having a tough time and you had enough to deal with, and I didn’t want to lumber you with anything more. Especially because I was already so scared of the risk I’d be taking for our friendship when we really needed each other.” She bit her lip. “And I wanted everything to be _perfect_. Yes, there’s good times and bad times to do things, but I think I’ve learned now, nothing’s ever perfect. You make it perfect by what you do. Like today. Today has been perfect for _us_.”

He swallowed, and she felt his lips brush her temple tenderly. “I wondered if you were trying to do that with that Hogsmeade visit after your birthday.”

“I suppose I was. Madam Puddifoot’s was an experiment, of sorts. I thought, maybe if I go on a proper date with you and do... you know, boyfriend-girlfriend things… I’d see that I was being silly and everything was going to be fine.”

“I see.”

She started to giggle, “Oh, Evan! That hideous, cutesy pink decor made me think of Professor Umbridge, and the tea was bloody horrible! And the cherubs! And you were sitting there doing your best to be polite, but you looked like a dog was trying to hump your leg in front of the Minister for Magic! It was such a disaster that I wanted to cry. When we left, I was convinced that I’d ruined everything and it was never going to work. But we had a walk around the village and laughed about everything, and you helped me buy some quills, and then we went to Honeydukes, and then we had coffee at the Three Broomsticks to warm up a bit. And when we got back to the castle, I realised that I’d had a great day despite the bad start - because I was with you.” She turned in his arms to face him, locking her eyes on his. “I was with someone I love more than anything, and that’s what made it special. Just like the Ball.”

“So, no more elaborate, contrived, romantic plans?”

She grinned. “Oh, maybe a few, now and then, but I’ll spare you another trip to Madam Puddifoot’s!”

He raised an eyebrow, “Just as well - I have standards, you know!”

She laughed and hugged him tightly. “Just as long as you can tolerate me being ridiculous every now and then!”

He grinned at her, but it slowly faded. “I love you, Michelle. I don’t think I said that, yet.”

Her eyes flew wide. _He’s really saying it. Oh, Merlin. It’s real. It really is._

“I’ve loved you for so long, but I didn’t want to scare you away. And perhaps that’s my fault, too. Perhaps I should have done more, somehow. This year, it was starting to feel like we’d fallen into a comfortable rut for both of us, and I couldn’t quite figure out how to get out of it.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” she whispered. “I nearly told you, several times, but somehow, I could never seem to get the words out.”

“I guess we finally got there in the end, even if it did take a major crisis to do it.”

She laughed, “It had to be something earth-shattering to kick us out of that rut.” Her smile faded, and she sobered a little. “Can you believe it? I’m actually nervous about what our friends will say.”

He tilted his head and looked at her like she was mad. “I don’t think it’s going to come as an enormous surprise to anyone, they’ve been pulling our legs about it for, what, four years, now? Longer?”

“Probably since Mike and Maxi got together,” she admitted.

“So no, I’m not embarrassed.”

“You’ve never been embarrassed, though.”

“Why would I be? After all, it was you.”

There really wasn’t anything she could say to that.

“Come on. Shall we go and spread the good news?”

* * * * *

She couldn’t believe it. Walking back into the common room, _with Evan_, something she’d done thousands of times before, but now, she was nervous. Now, everything was different. She was actually shaking. _Everyone will be able to tell and, and, and that sort of doesn’t really matter, but-_

He must have been able to feel her nerves as they stepped into the common room, because he gave her a wonderful, supportive smile and squeezed her hand, and suddenly those nerves were gone, to be replaced by butterflies of an entirely different kind. The common room was about half full, and their fellow seventh-years were all clustered around their usual table, their heads bent industriously over their work. Ravi saw them first and let out a grunt of mild surprise. Their other friends paused briefly to see what he was looking at.

“Oh, thank Merlin!”

“It’s a miracle!”

“_Finally_!”

And then, despite their smiles, they simply turned back to their work.

And everything was normal.

_Except it isn’t normal, nothing’s normal any more, and I’m so happy I could just burst, and everyone can tell, they know, I know they know…_

She stopped by the corridor to their dorms and forced out a deep breath, taking the bag from him. He looked at her enquiringly.

“I guess I’d better go and drop my things off in my room. I want a proper shower and a change of clothes, and stuff,” she said, a little hoarsely.

He smiled, making her shiver, and simply said, “See you in a bit, then.”

Her head still awhirl, she had barely dropped her bag on her bed when Becky and Tammy crept in, both sporting large grins.

“Sooooo… you and Evan?” Tammy asked leadingly.

She just nodded, unable to speak beyond the enormous smile on her face, and Becky laughed, and gave her a hug.

“At last! I’m so happy for you! How are you feeling?”

_Good question. How _am_ I feeling? Elated, and overwhelmed, and relieved, and… _“Scared.”

There was a brief silence, and her friends’ smiles faded into confusion. She took the opportunity to sit on her bed.

“Well, that’s romantic!” Tammy snorted eventually. “C’mon, it’s _Evan_!”

Becky ignored her and looked at Michelle shrewdly. “And that’s the point, isn’t it? It _is _Evan.”

She looked down. “Yeah.”

Tammy snickered, and Becky shot her a glare. “Tammy, stop it!” She turned back to Michelle and sat on the bed opposite, explaining in a low, calm voice. “Look, you’ve got a guy that’s absolutely adored you since you were eleven. You guys have done just about everything together over the last seven-”

“_Eee_verything?” Tammy leered, barely holding in her laughter. Michelle flushed bright red and tried to make a break for the bathroom, but Becky grabbed her hand and held her back.

“Whoa, hey, no, no, no! C’mon, Michelle, it’s OK!”

When she reluctantly stopped pulling away, Becky bounced to her feet and shoved Tammy’s shoulder angrily.

“OK, Tammy, get lost _right now_, or I swear, I’m going to slap you!”

Tammy held her hands up innocently, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, come on, a line like that-”

_Oh Merlin, can’t I just go somewhere private and lock the door and maybe just not come out until the end of term? I mean, the house-elves would bring me meals, _ _wouldn’t they_ _?_

“If you’re going to be such a total _cow_ when your friend needs you, then you can go and act like an arse somewhere else!”

“Bit of an overreaction, there, Bec.”

Becky raised her hand threateningly. “Are you still here?!”

Tammy backed up, “OK, I’m sorry! Really. I’ll stop. I’ll behave, now.”

Becky glared at her fiercely, and it was a long moment before she let her hand drop. Tammy sidled over to sit on the edge of her bed, looking determinedly straight-faced, and eventually Becky turned back to Michelle and continued in her calm, reasonable voice.

“Like I was saying, you guys have done just about everything together over the last seven years. The only dirty secret you had that he didn’t already know is that you’re just as crazy about him, and I’m pretty sure he knew that, too.”

“I know, but… I’m just afraid that I’m going to mess it all up.”

Becky shrugged, “You probably will. And because he loves you, he’ll forgive you, just like he has all those times over the last seven years. Just like he’s probably going to mess things up, and you’ll forgive him, too. Come on, Michelle, you _know_ this. You’ve got to step up and believe in yourself for once instead of turning away and hiding from your feelings.”

“It’s… it’s _easier _when I’m with him,” she muttered, not quite able to look at her friends.

“Of course it is.” Becky’s smile bloomed, “And _that’s_ why you two are so good for each other. You give each other confidence, and make each other stronger.”

“You can’t hide behind, ‘What if it all goes wrong’ or you’ll never do anything.” Michelle looked up in surprise; Tammy had taken up where Becky left off, and this time there was no mockery in her voice. “It’s time for you to think, ‘What if it all goes right’ instead. ‘Cos it _is_ going to go right, and the only thing that can stop you, is you.”

“And we won’t let you do that,” Becky finished softly.

Michelle found herself smiling back at them. “Am I not allowed to freak out just a little about this? I mean, after seven years?”

“Just a little. And only in a good way,” said Becky, with a grin.

Michelle stood up and grabbed both of her friends into a hug. “Thanks, guys.”

It was a long moment before the group broke up, and Becky’s grin hadn’t changed. “Now that that’s out of the way…” She took a deep breath, and squealed excitedly, “_Details_! Details, details, details, oh my _God_, tell us absolutely _everything!_”

The door cracked open, and Maxi’s grinning face appeared. “Looks like we’re just in time!”

It wasn’t just Maxi, there was most of the girls from sixth- and fifth-year behind her, too. “Hi! Don’t mind us,” said Leah, giggling, as they all trailed in.

“Yeah, we’ve been here for the epic love story, now we want to hear the happy ending,” said Susan Bones.

“_Happy ending_?” Michelle could feel her face flaming. “It’s only been about half an hour!”

Susan laughed, “And counting. Now, spill!”

“You’re not going to let me get away without telling, are you?”

“Nope!”

“Uh-uh!”

“Not a chance!”

She couldn’t restrain a groan of mortification. Eyes firmly focused on her shoes, she described her release from the hospital wing and the following events - albeit heavily edited in places. The girls aww’ed at the right moments, but when she finished, Tammy flopped back onto her bed, snatched up a pillow, and held it over her face while she screamed.

“All right, Tammy? Maxi said, between gusts of laughter.

Tammy beat her arms on her bed. “I don’t believe it! _Seriously?!_ Seriously, Michelle? All that nonsense over the last I don’t know how long, and you finally take yourselves off alone and it’s just ‘I love you, Pumpkin’, and ‘I love you, Honey-Bunny’, and _that’s it_?!”

The girls roared with laughter.

“Well, what were you expecting?!” Michelle snapped. “It’s not like this is for your entertainment!”

“After all that build-up, surely there could have been _something_ a bit more dramatic and romantic!”

“Well, _I_ think it’s sweet, and perfect for both of you,” Leah declared.

“Yeah. And maybe all the drama went into the big build up,” Hannah Abbott said. “How much drama do you need?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just a _bit _of passion!” said Tammy.

Becky’s sly smile widened. “Who says there wasn’t any passion? What’s he kiss like, Michelle?”

Michelle didn’t think it was possible to blush any harder. She was wrong. “I’m not answering that!”

“Ah, right. Blew yer socks off, then,” said Maxi, with a huge grin.

“And maybe a few other things, too!”

“_Tammy_!” she squawked in outrage. “OK, that’s enough! I’ve had a week in the hospital wing and I need a shower and a change of clothes.”

There were a few groans of mock-disappointment, but the girls gave up easily enough. Annoyed and horribly embarrassed as she was, she still collected their congratulations and a few hugs. That just left her room-mates, all lined up on the edge of Tammy’s bed, grinning at her.

“Oh, Merlin, are you still here?” she groaned, gathering up her towel and some toiletries.

“It’s OK, we live here,” said Becky cheerfully. “You’re happy, though, right?”

She paused. “More than I ever thought possible,” she said softly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…?”

The bathroom door didn’t cut out their chorus of, “You won’t get out of it that easily, we can wait!”

* * * * *

_Alone, at last_. Michelle slumped back against the door for a moment and tried to catch her whirling thoughts. She loved her friends, and she knew they were happy for her despite their teasing, but it was the first opportunity she’d had to be truly alone and think about the afternoon’s events. _Everything is new, now. Everything has changed_.

She set the shower running and stripped off her old clothes, lobbing them into a laundry bin for the house-elves. The hot water was incredibly refreshing, rinsing away the sweat and oils and the remnants of the Hospital Wing soap that did nothing for her skin. The warmth also drove out the spring chill that lingered from her time outside, under the willow.

_Evan’s arms, strong and gentle, pulling her back against him protectively. Her body alive and electric where he touched her-_

She could feel her body responding to the memory, and reached hurriedly for the body wash, forcing those thoughts down. She quickly found that rubbing the silky suds all over herself wasn’t exactly helping, especially when it was so easy to imagine _his _fingers-

She stamped a foot in frustration. _Is this it? Is this what it’s going to be like, now? My best friend, and now my boyfriend, and all I can think about is… is… _that_?!_

Then again, she knew she would be lying if she tried to tell herself it was the first time she’d had those thoughts. But why not? Surely it would be weird if she _wasn’t_ attracted to him that way, too? He was a good-looking guy, and she had already felt the exhilarating, addictive, terrifying power his kisses had over her. She scrubbed her fingers through her hair, and grabbed her shampoo. _Blown my socks off, indeed! Everything is different, now. Everything has changed_.

He was still her best friend. He was still the same calm, thoughtful person she knew so well. The one who could make her laugh, the one that could be such a wonderful companion, in lively conversation or in understanding silence. He was the one who could help her through anything with a sympathetic ear and a kind and thoughtful word, even just a reassuring touch. He always tried to listen to her, even when she was being ridiculous and panicking and stressed out, and find a way to help. _Kinda like now_.

He was the one that had helped her the most with her struggles after Cedric’s death. When it felt like swallowing her, he had let her share her grief and together, they had formed a little raft in the storm of emotions, the helpless rage and aching _loss_ that had threatened to overwhelm her. Being able to apparate over the summer had been such a relief, to know he was just a short trip away, someone that _understood_. In turn he had trusted her with his thoughts and confusion and despair - and, on a few occasions, tears. He was not a person to cry easily or in public, and she was honoured that he would trust her with something so private to him.

And in turn, she loved and trusted him more than anything. How could she not? He was her confidant and her sounding board and her strength. He could make her feel so safe, so, so… _loved_. And that was the key, wasn’t it? Love. That small, simple, magical word. She had known, of course. How she felt - how he felt, too, if she was honest. _You’ve never liked change much, _he had told her. And now that change had finally come, her dithering seemed like the most self-defeating thing she had ever done.

Her conditioner was running low, but she took a large dollop and began to work it meticulously through her hair.

On top of it all, she had the quiet faith that she was all of those things to him, too. Seven years. The sheer number of things that they had shared over that time, thoughts and fears and frustrations and dreams that she knew without a shadow of a doubt he would never consider discussing with anyone else.

She shut the water off and stepped out to get a towel, drying herself and then reaching for her wand to do her hair. Wrapping the towel around herself, she stepped back into the dorm to find something to wear. Tammy was still sitting on her bed, waiting for her.

“Hey. All OK?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

To her relief, Tammy just smiled and let it be. She picked out some underwear, then hesitated. _What to wear? Then again, does it matter? It’s just another regular Hogwarts evening, not a, a _date_, or anything fancy. Why am I even thinking about this so hard_? Shaking herself, she pulled a top and a clean bra out of her chest of drawers, then rummaged around for some warm, black tights and a long skirt. _I’m being silly because of Evan, aren’t I, but he won’t care. Even though everything has changed._ She may have told herself it didn’t matter, but nothing could have stopped her from picking out the jumper that had been Evan’s Christmas present.

“Looking good, mate. What do you want to do before dinner - anything?”

She tried to pull her thoughts into some sort of order. “I suppose I ought to try to work out what sort of a disaster I have to deal with in terms of classwork,” she groaned. Her schoolbag was still lying accusingly next to her bed, and she reluctantly picked it up and began to check through its contents.

“Seriously? You’ve just got out of the hospital wing, surely you can have an evening off for once?”

“I’d love to, but I know that I really need to get going if I’m going to catch up on everything.”

“Well. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Thanks, Tammy. Are you coming, or are you going to stay here?”

Tammy made a face, and collected her Charms textbook off her bedside table, and the two girls headed back for the common room. Michelle felt a definite quiver of trepidation, but there he was, sitting at a table with all the rest of their mates as usual. And, as usual, there was an empty seat next to him. She couldn’t have stopped herself from taking it for all the gold in Gringotts.

His smile sent a hard flutter through her stomach. “Hey. You feeling better?” he asked softly, taking her hand unobtrusively beneath the table and giving it a gentle squeeze. Around them, she could see smiles on her friends’ faces, but none of them made any comment or raised their heads from their work, and she felt a rush of affection for them, too.

“Better now,” she said, in a near whisper, and squeezed back.

His smile made her heart skip, and any doubts in her mind that she had done the right thing were forgotten as if they’d never been.

_Everything has changed. And I wouldn’t change any of it for the world._

* * * * *

Later, with their homework finished and Evan back from detention with Professor McGonagall, the seventh-years took the chance to stretch out by the common room fire and simply relax and talk. Michelle found herself snuggled in next to Evan on one of the sofas, his arm resting on the sofa back behind her. She still couldn’t quite believe that it had really, finally, happened, but there was no denying the feeling of electricity where her body leaned against his, or the thrill of breathless excitement every time she caught him watching her or felt his hand on her shoulder, her hair…

All too soon, it was time for bed, and if she had any doubts remaining, the good-night kiss well and truly put paid to them. She kind of didn’t want to be one of those couples that would just sit there and suck face for hours on end, but even keeping it relatively brief was enough to make her head spin, and it took her a moment to gather herself enough to whisper a final good night to him and head off to her dorm.

Inside, Tammy had her wireless on low, providing some background music while they got changed and made ready for bed. Michelle found herself sharing the bathroom with Maxi, still humming along under her breath to _Kneazle Got Your Tongue _by Wild Thestrals while she brushed her teeth and Maxi washed her face. She handed her friend a towel and they swapped places at the sink.

When she was rinsing her toothbrush, she heard Maxi close the door and say, “Hey, Michelle?”

“Hmm?” She dropped her toothbrush into the rack and glanced back over her shoulder. Maxi was looking unusually awkward, twisting her flannel in her hands.

“Look, err… ya know yer charms, right?”

“Eh? Well, yes, I’m up to date on Charms,” she said, pulling her hair out of its tail and combing her fingers through it. _Oh, that feels better_._ Can I get away with waiting until the morning before I brush it?_ “I got loads of it done in the hospital wing. Why, do you want to borrow that last essay?”

“Good grief, Michelle, not yer bloody homework, yer _charms!_” Maxi burst out. “You and Evan - you know?”

She turned to look at her friend, leaning back against the cool porcelain of the sink. “Me and-” She broke off, her mouth open in shock as the penny finally dropped and what felt like every blood cell in her body rushed to her face. “Yes! Yes, I… Um, of course I do!” she squeaked.

She heard a growl of frustration from her friend, and when she dared to look up, Maxi had a hand over her eyes and was shaking her head. “How the hell did I end up doing this? Now, Michelle,” she said, in an exaggeratedly patient voice, “When two people love each other very much, kinda like you and that big, blond eejit you’ve been slobbering over fer all these years-”

“Hey!”

“-then you’ll find that ya get certain urges ter find a nice, quiet, dark spot and hump each other’s brains out.”

“_Maxi!_” she wailed in protest, “Oh my _God!_”

_Oh Merlin, is it possible to pass out from blushing too much?_

Maxi heaved a sigh. “Ya know, if yer going ter react like this, maybe we _really_ need ter have this talk.”

“Maxi!” She groped for words, “We’ve been together for about half a day so far, and all we’ve done is kissed! Honestly!”

“Yeah, that won’t be for long,” Maxi muttered, then held up her hands. “Look, I’m not saying ya go out there and jump him in the middle of the common room, right? Just that yer both adults, and Merlin knows there’s been enough unresolved sexual tension between the two of yers over the last few years! We just wanna be sure that ya know how to look after yerself. ‘Cos afterwards is too late, ya know what I mean? Maybe ya get caught up in the moment, and then it’s no time ter be remembering ter go and rummage through a spellbook.”

“I… I… well,” _But maybe she does sort of have a point. And, embarrassing as it is, Maxi _is_ trying to look out for me_. “What do you mean, ‘We’?” she asked, playing for time.

“Me an’ the girls.” Maxi smiled, “No offence, Michelle, ‘cos yer one of my best mates, but ya do come across as a bit sheltered sometimes, ya know?”

“I should probably be offended by that.” She forced herself to take a few deep breaths and blow the mortification and outrage out with each one. “Look… thanks, Maxi. Yes, I do know the charms, Mum taught them to me a few years ago. I’m on the potion as well, and I’m good for quite a while on that.”

“Well, then.” Maxi looked at her for a moment, then chuckled and shook her head. “Go on and shag away, jus’ try not ter scream the castle down!”

_One day, I will get this blush reflex under control, I swear._ “I-I’ll do my best.” A thought struck her, and a reluctant giggle crept out. Maxi looked at her, confused, and she explained. “Can you imagine being caught doing _that_? By, I dunno, _Snape_ or someone?!”

“Err… yeah. How awkward would that be?”

Michelle’s mouth fell open in shock. “Maxi! You haven’t?!”

“What? _No_!” she exclaimed, whacking her on the arm and making both of them laugh. “That’s not ter say we haven’t nearly ended up risking it a time or two, this year! Once ya let that particular genie out of the bottle, well, it’s kinda hard ter _not_, sometimes.” Maxi grinned, “Merlin, we were so desperate for the Christmas holidays an’ going home when maybe we could get some quiet time alone together, and then o’ course I have ter play the good girl for me family, or they’d kill the pair of us. His lot were just as bad with him, an’ all.”

“So what did you do? Sneak off somewhere?”

“Well, we have ter take a portkey back ter King’s Cross ter get the train, don’t we? An’ surely we have ter go the day before so as we can get around Diagon Alley an’ do any last-minute shopping. Well,” Maxi said, grinning hugely, “We didn’t do a lot of shopping, but we nearly missed the bloody train, didn’t we!”

Michelle dissolved into giggles. “Everyone was wondering, but we were too afraid to ask.”

Maxi just waggled her eyebrows, “Everyone was right!”

_Do I say anything? I mean, Maxi’s been so open with me, tonight_. “That sort of thing might be a little too soon for us.”

Maxi, to her immense relief, didn’t laugh, just looked at her steadily and reassuringly. “Just as long as yer careful when the time comes. You’ll not hurt him, an’ I know he’d never hurt you.”

“Yeah. Well, it probably won’t be until after we’ve finished school, anyway. I don’t want it to be some awkward fumble in a bloody broom cupboard or something, you know?”

“Then you’ve got the right idea. Jus’ don’t build it up into this huge thing and put it off forever, that’s all.”

“I know. And I don’t know how long I’ll keep that resolve, anyway. He’s got a kiss that _really _makes my knees want to go in opposite directions,” she admitted in a whisper.

Maxi’s shocked laughter echoed around the bathroom. “I can’t believe I’d ever hear ya say somethin’ like that!”

Someone thumped on the door and yelled through to them, “Are you finished having a party in there, or what? Some of us want to go to bed tonight!”

“Sorry!” they chorused in reply. Michelle was reaching for the door when Maxi stopped her.

“Michelle? Hey.” Maxi stepped closer and hugged her tightly. “You’ll be fine. Just do whatever feels right to ya, and don’t stress about it. When the time is right, you’ll know.”

“Thanks, Maxi.”

When she pulled open the door, Tammy was standing there in her nightie, arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face. “Finally! Honestly, what were you _doing_ in there?”

Maxi pushed past her. “Pssht, as if ya weren’t pressed up ter the door, listening in.”

“We were talking about charms,” said Michelle, trying not to blush.

“Eh? Charms?” said Becky, looking up from beside her bed with a confused look on her face.

Michelle and Maxi looked at each other and collapsed into helpless laughter once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _FINALLY!_ You two lovable, absolute dorks...! :-)


	26. Seeking Normal

There were no nerves. Perhaps he should have been surprised by that. Sitting in the common room and waiting for Michelle the next morning was nothing like the wait in the common room before the Yule Ball the previous year. Then, he had a horrible, churning pit of anxiety where his stomach should be, but now there was only calm and eager anticipation. The previous afternoon had settled so many things, and it felt _right_. He knew how he felt about her, and it was a relief to finally get it out in the open. He didn’t have to be anxious any more about how she felt, and neither did she. It just felt right. And so he sat and made conversation with whoever was around, and waited patiently for her to emerge. It was difficult to miss that the common room was rather more busy than usual, and few of their housemates were subtle at their rubber-necking, clearly expecting a show.

In the event, he heard her before he saw her, complaining her way down the corridor from the girls’ dorms.

“-why you have to make such a big thing about this, I’ve got _class _today!”

Someone murmured a reply that he didn’t catch, and then she stepped into the room, exclaiming, “Oh, _honestly!_ Why are you being so ridiculous? It’s just school uniform!” Tammy and Maxi trailed after her with big grins on their faces, while Becky brought up the rear. Her shirt was pressed and her tie knot was impeccable, her shoes polished to a gleaming shine, and her robes were perfectly-ironed, although she had to turn and slap Becky’s wand away from a final pressing charm before she marched up to him. The irritated scowl on her face lifted when she caught his eye, and she gave him a small, _Can you believe this?_ smile. Shaking his head and ignoring the butterflies, he turned for the door so that she didn’t have to break stride, catching her hand in his.

She let out a final, frustrated huff as they stepped out of the common room. “Hi.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, looking away. It wasn’t hard to tell why she was so fed up.

“They do know we’ve seen each other before, once or twice, don’t they?”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, throwing her free hand in the air, “That’s what I told them, but would they bloody listen?!”

He chuckled, and shook his head. “I suppose they mean well. Anyway,” he said, as they reached the bottom of the stairs up to the Entrance Hall, swinging her around to face him and pulling her close. Beautiful dark eyes gazed up at him, drawing him in. “Good morning,” he whispered, then bent his head to hers.

A loud wolf-whistle behind them broke them apart half a minute later. “Sneaking off to snog already, are we?” Tammy asked, through gales of laughter, the others close behind her.

Sheepishly, they started up the steps, hand in hand. His heart was racing, and not from the climb, and the laughter-filled look she gave him just added butterflies on top. “You do look very pretty today, you know, but you always do. I think I might be biased.”

She giggled quietly, and squeezed his hand. “Good! Because I am when it comes to you, too.”

Whatever else the day might hold, at least it was off to a good start.

* * * * *

What surprised her most was how such a life-changing event changed her life. She met up with Evan in the morning - nothing new there. She had breakfast with him - but she always did that. They sat together in class - just like they always did. They studied together, and shared all the same jokes and looks and friendly, casual contact that they always had. What had changed was the _meaning_. Now, she had to sit through Transfiguration and Charms and _concentrate_, not just on the lesson but on not letting her mind wander, because if it did… well, maybe some of those thoughts weren’t exactly new, either, but they were much closer to the surface, and had the added glow of experience to bring her black-and-white imaginings to full colour. And the memories were so, so much better than wondering.

Herbology presented a different challenge, where the lessons were more hands-on and required working together and talking, and she had to be strict with herself to stay on topic. A comment, a glance, a touch, and suddenly she’d find herself in her own, private little world, just her and Evan, with not the slightest thought for the plants, or Professor Sprout, or the outside world. She was rather shaken by how strongly just his presence affected her, now, and how strongly she yearned for it.

If there was a consolation, it was realising that she affected him just as much as he affected her. She could catch him staring at her from across the room, a small, soft smile on his face while his work lay unattended, and know that he was caught up in thinking of her. She had heard him lose track of his thoughts in mid-conversation when their eyes met, and there was that sudden, almost shocking, jolt of connection that she couldn’t quite explain, the one that made her heart soar on breathless, dizzying wings. It was strangely exciting to know that she could have that effect on someone - especially the one she had loved and longed for, for so long.

The biggest frustration was that time and space to themselves was so limited. They were followed everywhere by their friends when they ventured outside of the common room. It was all with the best of intentions, but it was difficult to find a quiet spot to kiss and focus on each other and explore when there were people standing over you, afraid to let you out of their sight in case some vengeful Slytherin take the chance to have a shot at you. That just left the common room, and neither of them felt much like making a big scene in front of the rest of their housemates. Perhaps it was just as well that the physical side of their relationship hadn’t had a chance to develop, because while Michelle had a pretty good imagination - pretty good, and currently rather overactive - she suspected that they didn’t miss it quite the way that the likes of Mike and Maxi did.

And so she took joy in what they _did_ share - those loving looks, the gentle murmurs shared just with her, the feeling of his hand in hers between classes that made her fill with a strange pride. _See, everyone? That’s _my boyfriend!_ Smart and handsome and talented - and look, he’s with _me_!_ It was all very embarrassingly soppy, and she couldn’t have cared a whit less. After so many lost, doubt-filled years, she was determined not to let anything spoil it.

* * * * *

After classes finished for the day, they joined the others in the library. The references for Transfiguration didn’t take him too long to dig up, but Michelle had Potions as well to catch up on. As tempting as it was to stay and just be with her, he knew that she needed to concentrate, and so he set off for the Hufflepuff common room with Becky. Kenny accompanied them as far as the stairs, then headed up to Gryffindor tower, leaving Evan with his diminutive blonde friend. She had been casting quick, amused looks at him all afternoon, and finally, she spoke up just as they reached the barrels.

“Hey, Evan, have you got a minute?”

He paused, about to tap the entry pattern, and let his wand arm fall. “Sure?”

Becky quickly dug into her bag, and pulled out a slim envelope. “I’d almost forgotten about this. I took a picture of Michelle at the start of the year, and I think you should have it.”

“Oh. Um, thank you.” He tried to work out what it was that could be responsible for her enormous, rather cheeky, grin.

“Oh, it’s such a relief that you guys _finally_ got together. She’s so happy right now, it’s brilliant! Anyway, here.”

She passed him a photograph. He could see a bed and a chest of drawers, and it all looked quite familiar. “Uh… is this in the dorms? Should I really have this, or am I going to look like some sort of stalker?”

“No, no, it’s fine! I mean, yes, it’s in the dorms, but… oh, it’s easier if you just look.” She prodded impatiently at the side of the photo, and he saw Michelle’s face peek out from the frame and then disappear again. “Come on, come on, come out, will you?”

But Michelle’s image refused to budge. Becky huffed in frustration and glanced around them. “Look, just hold it so that she can only see you. If I’m right…”

“If you’re right, what?” he asked, tilting the photo towards himself.

“You’ll see.”

He waited patiently for a minute, but just when he was going to give up and tell Becky to stop being cryptic, he saw Michelle’s image look bashfully around the corner of the frame again. The image looked up at him for a long moment and bit its lip, and then it stepped hesitantly out of the frame. It was wearing a long, grey tee-shirt that only just covered its bum and clung rather alluringly to its body. A hairbrush was clutched loosely in one hand, and it began to sway on long, slender legs. Evan watched, transfixed, as it lifted the hairbrush to its mouth and began to sing along to unheard music. Sultry eyes locked on his, the image of his girlfriend strutted and twirled with a fluid grace and raw sensuality he’d never seen before. Abruptly, he realised that he still had company, and his eyes snapped up to see Becky watching him, both hands clamped over her mouth and her eyes bursting with gleeful mirth. She peeked over the top of the photo and saw what it was doing, and the laughter came bubbling out, bright and joyful.

“_I knew it_!” she crowed, pumping her fist, “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I _knew_ she was thinking of you when she was doing this!”

He looked at her in stunned silence, lost for words - and then, his eyes were drawn irresistibly back to the photograph.

Becky let out a sort of strangled squeak. “Oh, by Merlin, this is the hottest and most romantic thing _ever_!”

He swallowed, and found his voice. “Becky, what…? When did you take this? And did Michelle know?”

“Of course she didn’t! It was after the Welcoming Feast, and we were all getting changed and unpacking and listening to the wireless and having a sort of welcome back party.”

“I… uh…” He tried to summon some more coherent thoughts, confused feelings of protest, and discomfort, and awkwardness, and _dear Merlin, she’s utterly gorgeous._ The photo was a true image of her at the time it was taken, with everything that entailed.

“This is so worth it for the look on your face! You’re welcome, just be careful when you look at it!” she said teasingly, already tapping the pattern on the barrels.

“Becky-”

But she just threw her arms around him in a quick hug and darted into the common room, still chortling. Evan took a few deep breaths, and carefully tucked the photo away in an inside pocket of his robes. He knew Michelle loved him, just as he was certain about what he felt for her, but to see such naked _desire_ was unsettling when they’d barely done more than kissed, and it seemed so wrong to have it acted out there on paper, instead of just the two of them, alone together. Especially when it was taken in an unguarded moment from before they were together. _I know Becky means well, and I bet she thinks it’s hilarious to see Michelle let her hair down like that, but this sort of thing is private for her. She’d have been mortified if she’d found out. Hell, she probably still will be. Maybe I should just destroy it. _But back in his dorm, he found himself tucking it carefully into his trunk with his collection of letters from home.

Later, Gwion and Mike dragged him out of the common room for dinner, and as they crossed the Entrance Hall he saw Michelle coming the other way with Megan, Vinu, and Emma from Ravenclaw, and Karen and Angelina from Gryffindor. Her face lit up when she saw him, and she gave him a shy little wave and a heart-melting smile. They met at the doors to the hall, and lingered while their friends went ahead, giving them the chance for a little moment on their own. Her kiss was slow and tender, and the worry and doubt and all the other mess of feelings that had troubled him melted away at her touch.

“Hi. Did you get everything done in the library?”

“Yeah.” She gave him a playful smile, and bit her lip. “I had to come back down, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She kissed him again. “Missed you,” she whispered, sending shivers through him. All the thoughts of a passionate, lustful Michelle came roaring back through him, and he wondered how he could ever have doubted it.

She slid her hand into his and together, they headed for the Hufflepuff table and their friends.

* * * * *

Spring sunlight flooded the corridor as they piled out of Charms, their last class of the day. Tammy was more than happy to lead the way, but she had to wait for the two stragglers bringing up the rear.

Michelle gazed up at her boyfriend for a moment. “I’m going to the library with the girls,” she explained softly.

Evan smiled. “See you at dinner?”

“Of course.”

Her eyes darted around, and then she quickly stepped closer and stretched up to give him a quick kiss before breaking away and hurrying over to her waiting friends. He watched her go for a second, his face carefully neutral - except for his eyes. There was no mistaking his feelings if you could see his eyes, but he turned for the common room with Mike and Maxi hovering protectively at his back, and Tammy suppressed a grin and joined Chris and Ravi in following them. Michelle and Evan were together at last - at long, _long _last - but they were still oddly cautious about the way they were seen in public. Perhaps it was only good sense given the explosive atmosphere around the school, and perhaps they were just rather private people, but it was a little sad that they felt they had to be so restrained.

Then again, they knew each other so well that maybe they didn’t need words. For years, she’d been able to sit and watch the two of them have a whole conversation with just their eyes and a few tiny changes of expression. Outside of the common room, the only real, visible sign of their relationship was the way they unobtrusively held hands, but to anyone that knew them, their communication ran a whole lot deeper than that. In fact, it was easier to see the effect that they had on each other when they were apart. Evan was calmer, more relaxed, and clearly happier. It was much more obvious on Michelle, however, and her wide, cheerful smile and the happy bounce in her step was ridiculous, hilarious - and utterly adorable.

The other reason they had to be cautious was that their relationship had not gone unnoticed amongst their enemies. She had been there when Cassius Warrington had stood in front of them and cursed Evan out with flat hatred flowing through his voice. Somehow, the Slytherin boy had it in his head that Evan was responsible for Graham Montague’s long-lasting and incapacitating mental state, and he was out for blood in return. Evan had simply stood and listened, stony-faced and unmoving, until Warrington’s vicious invective ran out of steam. Even the horrific threats to levy revenge on Michelle had sailed past him without response.

“If I deny it, he won’t believe me,” he had told her later. “If I say nothing, he’ll take it as an admission of guilt. I can’t win either way, so I might as well save my breath.”

He had been calm and collected, almost indifferent when he spoke about it - on the surface, at least. She could only wonder if it would have been a different story if Michelle had been present to hear any of Warrington’s threats. In fact, Tammy and the others had reacted more strongly than he did, and it was strange to hear him rationalise it, once more the calm one, cool and in control. When Michelle was hurt, he had become someone else, almost, someone actually rather scary. Of course he had a temper like everyone, but then, it had been much closer to the surface, much more likely to go off at the littlest thing. It proved that if Michelle was his strength, she was also very much his weakness, too. Tammy and her mates made sure to watch both Evan and Michelle like hawks, and be doubly-cautious when any of the Slytherins showed their faces.

Evan hadn’t been the only target. Tammy had also been there when Michelle ran into Anastasia Halkett one morning on the way back from Herbology. Halkett had started on her usual, biting, bitchy comments, and Michelle had just looked at her, laughed, and moved on without her cheerful smile fading in the slightest. Coming from a girl that used to hide whenever Halkett showed up, it was an astounding change - almost as surprising as the absolutely crushed look on that cow Halkett’s face at being brushed off. Where Michelle’s newfound self-belief had come from was a mystery, and surely not just from getting together with Evan. She wasn’t saying, though, and in the end, Tammy was just happy to see her friend so positive and confident.

That wasn't to say she didn’t still get hung up over the most ridiculous things. She had been a bundle of nerves after writing a letter to her mother to explain that the most inevitable event since the sun rising in the east had actually happened. She was anxious and fidgety and scatterbrained until Rascal soared back to her the next morning, bearing a reply containing her parents’ love and support and utter lack of surprise at her news except to ask what in the name of Merlin had taken her so long. Tammy couldn’t stop herself from laughing when Michelle confided that last part to her, and then had to put up with the inevitable huff - although it didn’t last long, because she knew it was true, too.

It wasn’t all sunshine and roses, however. There was still the matter of Evan’s Quidditch ban, and Smith had gone off like an erumpent in mating season when he found out. Evan had stood there and taken Smith’s ire with equanimity, and simply offered to help Rafa prepare for Slytherin instead. He didn’t even indulge in pointing out the blindingly obvious that he’d argued for all season, that you needed reserves _for exactly this reason_. Poor Cervantes looked rather overwhelmed at the prospect of replacing Evan - Tammy was pretty sure he was the kid’s idol - but Evan had spent the weekend working with him, getting him up in the air and working on his agility and positioning, but he’d also got her and Mike and Maxi to help out so that Rafa could have some experience not just saving Quaffles, but tracking the ever-present threat of the Bludgers at the same time, too. It wasn’t ideal, and she would rather have Evan every day of the week, but the kid was doing his best, and that was all they could ask for. If anyone was to blame, it was that utter cow, Umbridge. What a coincidence that this ban just happened to appear right before they played Slytherin.

They would just have to make the best of it, she thought, watching him duck easily through into the common room. And if this whole mess had been the thing that finally, _finally_ got her two friends together, maybe it hadn’t worked out so badly, after all.

* * * * *

They were just tidying up at the end of Herbology on the Wednesday before the match with Slytherin when Professor Sprout cornered him.

“Mr. Fielding, a word, if you please?”

“What can I do for you, Professor?”

Professor Sprout passed him a hefty pot from the bench, then picked one up herself and led the way into the rear of the greenhouse. “Just there, please.” she said, putting her pot down heavily on a scarred work bench. “Professor Umbridge spoke to me this morning. Apparently, she has had a change of heart, and your Quidditch suspension has been lifted. That makes you free to play this weekend.”

She was watching him carefully as she spoke, and he chewed his lip for a moment in thought.

“It’s like that, then, is it? Huh,” he said at last.

“Mr. Fielding, I know that this would be the last time you play for our House, and you are old enough to make your own decisions. However, I think it would be wise if you were to give this game a miss.”

He nodded respectfully. “And you’re almost certainly right. There are other considerations, though. I’ll talk about it with the rest of the team and make a decision.”

“That tells me that you’re going to play anyway.”

“Like I said, I need to think about it.”

“Then think very carefully, Mr. Fielding.” She shook her head, “Well, I’ll let you go. There’s no point making you late for your next class as well.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

Michelle was waiting for him outside. “All right, Evan? What was all that about?”

He gave her a belated smile and held out his arm. She hooked her arm through his and fell into step with him on the well-beaten path back to the castle. “She had a message to pass on, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Michelle looked a little non-plussed at the cryptic reply, but let it pass.

They were on their way up the stairs when Zacharias Smith intercepted them, his chest puffed out self-importantly with his Quidditch Captain’s badge pinned prominently on his lapel. “Fielding, I’ve just heard about your ban. That’s excellent news! We’re in with a proper chance against Slytherin now!”

Evan tried to resist the urge to swear. “I haven’t said that I’ll play yet.”

“What? Of course you’ll play, don’t talk rot!”

Evan tried to ignore Michelle’s gaze burning holes in the side of his neck. “What about Cervantes? He’s been training for this all week.”

Smith made a dismissive gesture. “He’s too young and too small. He does his best, of course, but we’ll get smashed with him Keeping. Now come on, no more of this nonsense and I’d better see you in that dressing room on Saturday.”

With that, Smith hurried away. Evan watched him go and blew out his cheeks in exasperation.

“What’s all this about, Evan? You’re banned from Quidditch.”

He took a deep breath, and tried to keep his voice light. “Apparently Umbridge has changed her mind.”

“So what? You’re not going to play, so there’s nothing to talk about, right?”

Michelle’s voice was rising in anxiety and anger, and he turned to her and held up his hands placatingly, trying to keep his voice low and calm. “I don’t know yet. I’ve only just heard myself, and I want to think about it and to talk with the rest of the team first.”

“Evan!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him into a nearby empty classroom, then slammed the door and rounded on him, two high spots of colour in her cheeks. “Don’t be a bloody fool! All they want is a chance to have a shot at you! You’ve got too many people looking out for you now, so this is the only way they can do it.”

He winced. “You’re right. And believe it or not, that’s why I’m considering it.”

She shoved him angrily in the chest with the palm of her hand, “For Merlin’s sake-”

He took a step backwards and tried to keep his voice calm. “No, hear me out, Michelle. Warrington and his chums want a shot at me. If that’s really what they want, then better that it’s in a Quidditch game than in a quiet corridor somewhere.”

“That bastard can still put you in the hospital wing - or worse! And that evil cow Umbridge will just pretend nothing happened, again. I can’t believe I’m hearing this!”

Evan took a deep breath, but he could feel his temper rising. “Maybe they can. But it’ll be in front of the entire school and the teachers, and Madam Pomfrey will be there, too. With any luck, the worst they can do is get a few cheap shots in, satisfy their pathetic egos, and then it all blows over and gets forgotten about.”

“_With any luck_!?” she spat incredulously, “With any luck? With any luck, maybe they won’t bloody kill you! For Merlin’s sake, Evan, I can’t believe you’re even considering this!”

“I’ve got half the bloody school trailing around after me every time I step outside the common room, and somehow I’m a figurehead for every halfwit wanting to pick a fight, on either side!” he snapped shortly. “I want to find a way to end this before it all blows up in our faces! If that means taking a few whacks on the Quidditch field, then so be it.”

“So where does it stop, Evan? Huh? Bruises? How many broken bones do you think will satisfy them? How many will satisfy you?”

“Michelle-”

He reached out to her, but she slapped his hand off her shoulder. “Get your hands off me!” she snarled, stepping close and shoving her face up into his. “How much is enough, Evan? What the hell is this? Some sort of sick need to let them punish you for doing the right thing? We’ve got, what, six, eight weeks? And then you never have to see any of these inadequate little pricks ever again!”

“Michelle, listen to me!” he barked.

“Why should I listen to this madness!”

“Damn it, listen, will you?! They can all go to hell, as far as I’m concerned, but there’s reasons for this! I want this to end now, here, in the safest way possible before someone gets seriously hurt. Quidditch is about the best option I’ve got, because they can’t go too far. If I don’t do something, it’s only a matter of time before it will be Warrington and his chums against me in an empty corridor with no one to stop them and no back up. And add to that, given who Warrington sucks up to, the very last thing I want is for him to be egging on Malfoy’s Death Eater chums into settling scores for him out in the real world after school finishes!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I? You read the papers just as much as I do, Michelle - what do you think is going to happen? Is that what you want?”

“So you expect me to sit there and watch them hurt you?”

“I watched you _bleed_ because of them!” he began in an ugly snarl, “I’d do anything not to go through that again!”

“Oh, and now it’s my turn, is that it?!” she screamed back at him, tears flowing freely.

“No! But if it means I don’t have to see you suffer like that again, then I’d do it ten times over!”

“Well, well, Trouble in paradise?” drawled a voice from the doorway.

They whirled to see the sallow figure of Professor Snape glaring coolly at them.

“If I can interrupt your teenage melodrama for a moment, I believe you should both be in class.”

Shaking with residual anger and shock at being so easily surprised, Evan took a deep breath and tried to answer respectfully. “Yes, Professor, we were just going.”

Michelle turned and hurried out for the stairs, but when Evan tried to follow her, Snape held up a hand to stop him. “You’re surprised to learn that actions have consequences, I expect.”

Evan turned to look at him. It was almost a surprise to realise that he was looking down on the much-feared Potions master. _Which side are you on, I wonder? The one that says ‘Snape’, I should think._ “No, Professor. Nothing I didn’t expect.”

One of Snape’s eyebrows rose, “But you did it anyway. Remarkable. The sort of stupidity I normally associate with Gryffindors.”

Somehow, the expected insult didn’t quite ring with Snape’s usual disdain. “It looks like there’s a few people in your house who need to learn about consequences, too.”

“And you were just the boy to do it, were you?” Snape sneered, but he dropped the hand blocking Evan’s way.

Evan shrugged. “Well, no-one else was going to. I waited.”

For a second, he almost thought Snape was going to smile. Instead, he reverted to his usual charm. “Get out of my sight, Mr. Fielding. And if I were you, I’d pay more attention to making sure that you’re not caught unawares somewhere quiet.”

_Delivered with his usual charm, but... a reasonable enough warning._ “Yes, Professor.”

* * * * *

The second Charms was over, Michelle fled back up the corridor and down the stairs two at a time until she reached the sanctuary of her dorm. Yanking the curtains around her bed, she flopped back onto the pillows, clutched her quilt to her chest, and let the hot, angry tears spill out. It was the fear, too - for him, and for her. She remembered more than enough of what had happened in that corridor.

Some time later, she heard the curtains on the side of her bed part, and someone sat carefully beside her.

“Hey. You going to be all right?”

Becky was looking anxiously down at her, perched on the side of the bed like she might have to flee at any moment.

“Hi,” she hiccoughed, feeling a little silly.

Becky smiled at her and held out her hand, and when she took it, the blonde girl pulled her up into a hug. “I guess you’ve had a bit of a bad day?”

“The worst!”

“Uh-huh. Fight with Evan?”

“How did you-”

Becky chuckled and let her go. “Oh please, you could barely look at him in Charms. Not to mention you walked in looking like an absolute mess, and he wasn’t a lot better, either.”

Michelle had trouble meeting her friend’s eyes. “I can’t believe it! It’s been b-barely a week and I’ve m-managed to b-bugger it all up!” she sniffled.

“Look, I’m sure it’s not that bad. What was it about, anyway?” Becky asked soothingly.

“Quidditch.” She felt even more ridiculous for saying it, and the look on Becky’s face would have been almost comical if she didn’t feel so wretched about the whole thing.

“Quidditch? As in that stupid game messing around on brooms, Quidditch? What on earth... look, I can imagine that he’s a bit grumpy about being banned and everything. It’s his last year, after all, and-”

“That’s just it, he isn’t banned. Not any more.”

Becky’s expression cycled through surprise to thoughtfulness, caught off guard. “Ah. I see. He’s not going to play, though, is he?”

“Of course he is! He started on some nonsense about letting the Slytherins have a free shot at him to calm things down, but he’s just looking for an excuse!”

“OK, I think you’d better tell me exactly what happened.”

Becky passed her a handkerchief and then tucked one leg up underneath herself, listening closely while she tried to explain. Even to her, it sounded an infuriating mix of the deathly serious and the utterly trivial, but Becky let her talk herself out and then thought for a moment.

“OK. So. From the outside, it sounds like you had a bit of a tiff, but no-one made any ultimatums or said anything irretrievable. Come on, Michelle, you know that you’re going to have disagreements now and then.”

“Not this bad,” she said, the awful, sinking feeling in her stomach swooping in once again.

Becky sat back with a sigh. “Right, look. Did he say he was definitely going to play?”

“Well... no, but I know-” Michelle conceded, only to be immediately cut off.

“Never mind that! And it sounds like he told you why he was thinking about it. Do you think he wasn’t taking it seriously? Honestly, now.”

“...No.”

“No, he wasn’t taking it seriously?”

Michelle bit her lip, “He was taking it seriously.”

Becky nodded soberly. “And no matter whether you think it’s stupid or not, can you see his point of view?”

“Well... I suppose so.”

“Right, crucial question. Do you think he took what you said seriously?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh Becky, I’ve ruined everything.”

“No you haven’t,” Becky said firmly. “It’s not great, but it’s not that bad.”

“You didn’t hear me yelling at him. Oh Merlin, you didn’t, did you? I was probably loud enough that the whole castle heard!” She buried her flaming face in her hands and groaned. “Snape! _Snape_ heard! He told us off for being late to class!”

“_Snape_? Oh dear.”

Becky’s voice wavered, and Michelle looked up suspiciously. “You’re laughing at me.”

Sure enough, Becky was trying to keep a straight face, and failing. “I’m not! Well, I’m not really, it’s just-”

“I don’t believe this!” Michelle moaned. “So much for sympathy!”

“Oh, stop it! It’s just the thought of Snape walking in on you... did either of you say anything like, ‘How could it get any worse’? I mean, really!”

Despite her determined efforts to wallow in self-pity, the thought settled into her mind, bringing an amused snort. “Shut up!” she exclaimed, pushing her friend’s knee gently. “I suppose he wasn’t that bad, all things considered.”

“That’s the spirit! Feeling any better?”

“I suppose I am. Just… I really don’t want to see him get hurt, you know?”

“Who, Snape?”

Michelle whacked Becky’s leg indignantly, making the other girl laugh.

“I’m joking, I’m joking! Sheesh!” Her grin faded a little. “Of course you don’t want to see him get hurt. And sometimes, you just need a bit of a cry in private before you sort everything out again,” Becky said, nodding. “I just hope it’s helped a little.”

“Yeah. Although I’m not sure how I am going to sort everything out.”

“Just talk to him. Maybe let things cool down for a bit if you think he’s still angry, but whatever you do, don’t let it go on too long.” A sly smile broke out on Becky’s face, “Come on, it’s Evan! You know what he’s like - just go and make puppy-dog eyes at him, and he won’t be able to resist!”

“There’s no need to make him sound like an idiot!”

“You know what I mean. Seriously, the guy loves you. Go and talk to him.”

Michelle sighed. “You’re probably right.”

Becky gave her a wicked smile, “Well, if all else fails, you can drag him into a broom cupboard and-”

The door burst open and Tammy bounced in, making them both jump. “Hey, guys! Oh, uh... bad time?”

“Sort of,” Becky explained laconically. “Fight with Evan.”

“Oh. Everything all right, now?” she asked, more to Becky than Michelle.

“Um... hello?” Michelle said, a little exasperated by the conversation going on over the top of her.

“Yeah, they’ll be fine, although needless to say Michelle’s worried sick.”

Tammy grinned, “Just pout and flutter your eyelashes at him, Michelle, and he’ll forget all about it.”

“You two are unbelievable!” Michelle snapped, thoroughly nettled. “How can-”

“Oh, stop being a drama queen!” Becky said dismissively.

“Maybe we need _him_ to come in and make puppy-dog eyes at _her_?” suggested Tammy. That made them all laugh, and Michelle felt a sort of cautious optimism.

“Okay, so maybe it won’t be that bad.”

“It’ll be fine,” Becky said bracingly.

She wiped her eyes a final time, then blew her nose. “I hope so. Now all I have to do, is do it.”

* * * * *

She didn’t see him at dinner. Instead, when she came back into the common room with Tammy and the girls to work on her never-ending pile of homework, she spotted him at a small table on his own, lost in a jumble of books and parchment. Maxi looked at her sideways and, after some hesitation, she and the girls took a larger table not far away from him. Normally, of course, he would join her, or she would join him. Not tonight. One by one, the seventh-years boys joined them in beavering away at Herbology and Charms, too, but he didn’t move.

Ravi and Maxi partnered with her on Transfig. as they explored some variations on conjuring, but both were ill at ease, and she kept catching the concerned looks her friends shot between her and the figure working alone. Presumably they, too, could feel that feeling of _wrongness_. She tried to put it out of her mind, but he kept creeping back into her thoughts.

At least he didn’t look angry. It could be hard to tell with Evan, but she knew him well enough to know his moods. He was simply busy, working quietly and diligently in a way that was so familiar to her. Perhaps finalising the article on hippogriffs and porlocks that Professor Hagrid had been encouraging him to write. If the huge man’s enthusiasm when he read Evan’s project report was justified, then the article would be a success. She thought back to her trip out to the hippogriff paddock to watch him work, patient and careful as always, and suppressed a smile at the thought of the mother-hippogriff’s sulky aggression towards her. She clearly felt that Evan was hers. Back off, human!

Transfiguration completed, she and Chris moved on to the Potions essay due at the end of the month and preparation for the following day’s class. As time wore on, the common room gradually began to thin out as the Hufflepuffs finished their work or lost interest and headed to their dorms or out into the castle, trying to catch a few moments of freedom before curfew. Normally, a walk would be welcome after stuffing your head with information and homework, but most of her house-mates opted to stay in the common room these days rather than risk the marauding Goon Squad. It simply wasn’t worth the hassle.

Her eyes kept being drawn back to the figure in the corner. How many moments had she seen him like this, how many times had she watched his quill skittering over the parchment, that characteristic little pause while he rubbed the left side of his chin with the pad of his left thumb, thinking. He looked up, his beautiful blue eyes a thousand miles away, and then his head dipped back over his parchment and the dance of his quill resumed.

Curfew had long since passed by the time she and Chris finished Potions. Ravi, Mike, and Maxi had already gone, Tammy had shoved her books back into her bag and was lounging in her seat, her long legs stretched out before her, and Becky was reading a novel, her legs tucked up underneath herself.

“Are you done, then?” Becky asked, looking up.

She couldn’t stop her eyes flicking to the boy in the corner once more. _Still there._ “I need to catch up on Defence, you guys go on ahead.”

“You want to borrow?” Tammy asked.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.”

Tammy and Becky exchanged a look. “G’night, then.”

Reluctantly, she pulled out her textbook and rummaged through her notes to find the assignment. Her Defence essay was half-hearted, utterly distracted, probably terrible, but it kept her going and gave her the thinnest veneer of an excuse to stay, too. One by one, her remaining housemates gave it up for the night. Finally, Hannah Abbott nudged Susan Bones, and the two gathered up their books and headed for their dorm, murmuring a quiet, ‘Good night’ as they passed.

They were alone.

The leather of his chair creaked as he shifted position, but still he wrote on, and she forced herself to do the same, occasionally turning a page of Wilbert Slinkhard’s vile, vile book. Her last Defence class could not possibly come soon enough.

The impact of Evan’s quill hitting a final full stop almost echoed around the room. He stretched slowly, massaging his fingers, then charmed and rolled up his parchment and closed the library book propped on the stand in front of him. She could feel her heart start to pound as he stood up, but instead of coming to her, he ambled to the fireplace and tossed a small log onto the embers, then dropped into one of the overstuffed couches that stood arrayed in a loose semi-circle in front of the fire.

She hesitated, hesitated some more, and then flipped her textbook closed and dropped her quill on top of it, ignoring the small ink-flecks that spattered on its cover. _That’s the least it deserves_! With a deep breath, she stood and crept across the room to sink down onto the couch next to him. All was silent except for the soft hiss of the fire and the steady tick of the wall clock in the corner.

_I need to say something. I need to start this. Somehow. _

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

His voice was tired, gentle… and maybe a little sad. She took a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t look at her, but slowly leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands loosely clasped, staring into the flames.

“I didn’t think what you were saying was wrong, actually.”

“No?”

“No.”

She digested that in silence for a while, feeling her heart sink. _Becky was right. Of course he was taking me seriously. As if he’d do anything else_. “What are you going to do?”

He glanced over at her for a second, a tiny, wry smile on his face. “That’s the question, isn’t it? And I need to make a decision.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I talked to a few people today.”

“Yeah?”

“The Quidditch team, for starters. Well, excluding Smith, but you already know what his opinion is. Owen was a flat-out no, don’t risk it. The others thought that as long as I’m careful, it’ll be dirty but it shouldn’t be too bad. And as Gwion pointed out, they’ll have my back, and it’s seven on seven, no wands.”

She took a breath to argue, but managed to hold her tongue.

“And I spoke to Rafa. He said he’d play if I didn’t, but he’d really prefer not to. It’s Slytherin, after all. Even without all this, they play rough, and it's a heck of a game to make a debut in.”

“And with things as they are?” she couldn’t help asking.

“Well, it’s not going to be a tickling contest, put it that way.” He grimaced, and continued, “Professor Sprout told me not to when she passed on Umbridge’s message. She said she wouldn’t stop me, but she thought it was a risk not worth taking. And I spoke to Gabriel.” He turned and gave her another smile, a more genuine one this time, “And _that _wasn’t easy to arrange, believe me!”

Somehow, she found herself smiling back at him, almost like everything was normal between them. _For Merlin’s sake, girl, one look from him, and-_

“He said that Warrington is absolutely desperate for a chance at me. Desperate. That’s not exactly news, I suppose. But at the same time, he pointed out that there’s only so much he can do in the context of a game, and it’s not like I won’t have backup from the rest of the team.”

“So what are you going to do?”

He sighed, staring into the flames once more. “What do you think I should do, Michelle?”

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Her first thought was, _Well, that’s just not fair! Asking me like that! But isn’t that what I wanted? A chance to tell him not to? Ha! Like he doesn’t already know. But…_

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” _There, that’s top and tail of it. Best to get it out in the open - not that it’s a surprise to either of us_.

“I don’t want to get hurt, either,” he said softly. “Believe me, I’m not going to just stand there and make it easy for them.”

“But?”

“But it’s Quidditch. There’ll always be bangs and bruises. There’ll always be Bludgers to dodge. Yes, I’m going to have to look sharp, because there’ll be more Bludgers than usual coming my way, but I’ve got Mike and Maxi on my side, and they’ll be fired up like nothing else. It’s going to be tough, I’ve got no illusions about that at all - and there’s never any guarantees. But I trust my team-mates, and I know they’ll be looking out for me.”

That brought a tentative smile to her face. “That sounds like something Cedric would say.”

Rather than smile, he seemed to slump in his seat. “He probably would - and he’d find the words to make it sound like there was never any doubt at all. But I’m not him.”

She hesitated. “That’s not what I meant. Evan, I-”

“People seem to expect me to have the answers to everything, these days, and I don’t. What would Cedric do? I don’t know, I only know what I would do, and most of the time, I’m winging it. What would Cedric do? Better than me, probably. But I can only be me.”

“That’s all anyone can ask. I know that’s what I want. I want _you_, Evan, nobody else. I love you.” She took his hand, but he didn’t move. “I know we tend to look to you to take a lead this year, even Mike and Maxi. Do you know why? Because we all trust you. We all know your heart and your instincts are good, and that’s not something that’s earned lightly.”

“Perhaps. I still need to find an answer for this question, though.”

“You already know what you’re going to do.” She stood and pulled him to his feet. He gave her a questioning look, and she stepped close and kissed him tenderly. “Come on, it’s time for bed. You’ve got a Quidditch game to win.”


	27. Hufflepuff v Slytherin

The next couple of days were agony. Despite her brave words, the constant, sickening fear didn't leave her, and it wasn’t helped by Evan’s sudden reinstatement quickly being _the_ topic of conversation in Hufflepuff and across the school. Even their friends weren’t immune, as she overheard Maxi saying privately to Mike, “It’s gonna be the 1473 World Cup Final all over again, and for sure they’ll be trying out all 700 fouls on Evan.”

Evan himself seemed untroubled by the idea. Her nerve would have failed and she would have begged him to change his mind again had it not been for his calm demeanour. He radiated the calm certainty that it was just another game, to be planned hard and flown fiercely. The insults exchanged, the niggle in the corridors, it just flowed off him like water off a duck’s back. He had grinned at Rafa’s poorly-disguised relief, and simply invited him along to the final team practice.

“You never know, maybe I’ll chicken out!”

Rafa’s shocked laughter had echoed around the common room, and he eagerly joined the others for their final hit-out. Typical Evan.

If there was a positive to the tensions over Quidditch, it was that it took the spotlight off her and Evan. Now, all of the Quidditch team were huddled with escorts every time they ventured up into the castle. It wasn’t totally effective, but while words still flew between the Hufflepuffs and their opponents, there were fewer incidents where the wands came out.

Both sides eyed each other intensely across the hall during dinner on Friday night. Nearly all of the Hufflepuffs lined up on the far side of their table so that they could keep the Slytherins in sight, and no-one felt like making themselves a target by turning their back.

“I hear that Montague’s parents were here yesterday. They’re talking about pulling him out and taking him to St. Mungo's,” said Ravi, in a low voice. “I heard Donna Robards and Liz Nott talking about it in the library.”

Not for the first time, Michelle wondered what had happened to the Slytherin boy, and precisely what the Weasley boys’ involvement had been. _They aren’t the sort to deliberately hurt someone, but nearly two months has passed and he’s still not right. He must have had some sort of accident, but even if it wasn’t deliberate, maybe they could help pin-point whatever it was._

The conversation around her had inevitably returned to Quidditch.

“Either way, he’s clearly not going to be playing tomorrow,” Ravi pointed out. “I wonder who their reserve is? Any ideas?”

“Apparently it’s going to be Urquhart,” Roger Stebbins chipped in.

“What, the big, ugly ogre from your year, Roger?” said Becky.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Roger shook his head, “Their Chasers do seem to be all of a type, don’t they?”

“You mean complete and utter pricks?”

He laughed shortly, “Something like that.”

“Pucey’s not so bad,” Evan pointed out mildly.

“Dear Merlin, Evan, yer not supposed to be defendin’ them!” Maxi said in disgust, making him grin.

Later, after he got back from detention, Evan took a seat beside Michelle on one of the common room couches. They talked idly about the evening news from the WWN and his detention, which sounded more like half homework and half N.E.W.T. tutoring from Professor McGonagall.

“That’s grossly unfair on the rest of us, of course,” she teased him.

He grinned at her, and the arm around her shoulders gave her a squeeze. “Perhaps, but on the whole, I’d much rather be here with you.”

His voice had been quiet, pitched for her ears only, but she heard an outbreak of fake retching behind them, and blushed as Tammy bounced past and ruffled her hair on the way. She couldn’t bring herself to turn and see the look on her face.

Evan was watching her carefully, and his smile faded. “Are you still OK about tomorrow?” he asked softly. “You’ve been pretty tense, recently.”

She inhaled sharply, then forced herself to slow down and think about her answer. “I’m scared,” she admitted, very quietly. “I know why you’re doing it, and I think you’re probably going to be all right in the end, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried.” She summoned a small smile, “Then again, I’m worried every time you play.”

He didn’t join in with her smile. “But not like this.”

“Not like this.”

“Michelle-”

“No.” She had thought about it ceaselessly, turning it over and over in her head. _Yes, he’s probably going to get banged up, but I can’t take this away from him. He’s not going to back down, and I’ll support him in what he thinks is the right thing to do._ She leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. “Go out there and show them how it’s done.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She second-guessed herself all through Friday night, tossing and turning until she dragged herself out of bed on Saturday morning, already exhausted. The Quidditch team looked rested and well up for the game. There was no missing the light of battle in Mike and Maxi’s eyes, and the others were no less eager. Evan looked calm on the surface, but she could tell he was impatient for the waiting to end and the action to begin.

Finally, it was time. Smith called the Quidditch team together, and she gave him one final kiss and let him go. Professor Sprout herself came to escort them safely to the stadium, which gave her a small kernel of optimism that things wouldn’t get too out of hand. All there was left to do was join Becky and the mass of Hufflepuffs flooding down to the stadium, and pray that everything would pass off smoothly.

* * * * *

Michelle and Becky reached the top of the stairs at the back of the stands and squeezed their way down to the front, where Chris had saved them some places and was beckoning them down. He wasn’t alone, either.

“Hiya Trish, have you changed your colours for the day?” Becky said brightly.

The dark-haired Gryffindor girl just grinned, clutching Chris’ hand tightly. “I thought I’d see what it looks like from this stand, for a change. Besides, it’s a bit empty in Gryffindor these days.” She looked momentarily a bit sad, and Becky gave her a warm smile.

“Just as long as you don’t mind cheering for the Badgers today.”

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem!”

She was forestalled from saying any more by the amplified voice of one of her housemates booming around the stadium.

“_Hello and welcome, everyone, to the penultimate game of the 1995-96 Quidditch season! It’s a last hurrah for many of the players on both of today’s sides, although some will be missed more than others-_”

“_I see that you’re starting on my patience early today, Jordan!_” growled another familiar voice.

“_-And Professor McGonagall will, of course, miss all of them very dearly._”

There was laughter around the stands.

“Lee’s commentary’s great, isn’t it?” said Michelle, trying to stifle her giggles.

“Well, we like him, but he tends to be a bit biased. I’ve always wondered if the other houses mind,” said Trish.

“_Hufflepuff face a major rebuilding exercise, with only Cadwallader, Summerby, and Smith, returning next year, while Slytherin lose the bulk of their side except for Malfoy and his goons-_”

“_All right, Jordan, that’s enough!_”

“_Sorry, Professor. I’m sure they’ll struggle to find anyone decent who’s willing to suck up to Malfoy enough next year to get in the side._”

“_Jordan!_”

“Oh, he has his good points,” said Chris, grinning widely.

“_Moving along, in surprising news, Professor Umbridge has decided to allow Fielding to play his final game for the ‘Puffs today. This act of soft-hearted altruism is in no way related to the members of Slytherin house on the opposing side who are itching to knock his block off, I’m sure._”

There was a prolonged break in the commentary, with only muffled noises and distant shouting heard. At length, Lee’s voice resumed, sounding a little shaken.

“_Anyway, it’s a major boost for the Badgers to have The Great Wall of Hufflepuff guarding the hoops, and he’ll be doing his best to make sure the Slytherins regret it._”

Seven green-clad shapes shot out from under the stadium on brooms, circling and loosening up amidst a few boos from the spectators. Lee Jordan’s voice took on an added note of animation with the first signs of the start of play.

“_Here come the teams now, Slytherin are first on the pitch, led by Captain Bletchley, Beaters Crabbe and Goyle, Chasers Warrington-_”

The first few names of the Slytherin side were greeted with muted enthusiasm from the Slytherin benches, but when Warrington’s name was announced, the rest of the side was lost in thunderous jeering from all around the stadium.

A few moments later, Lee Jordan was doing his best to name the yellow-and-black clad flyers zooming out from under the stands. “_-Applebee, Summerby is the Seeker, while at the back, it’s Evan Fielding!_”

Conversely, Evan’s name was received with an enormous cheer.

“Oh Merlin, I only hope Evan’s not making a terrible mistake,” Michelle said fretfully, pulling at the fringe of her scarf. Yellow and black banners fluttered proudly around them in the Hufflepuff section, but there were also supportive banners in the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw stands, as well.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Becky said bracingly.

“It’s very Gryffindor, in a way,” added Trish. “He’s almost daring the Slytherins to try something, but-”

“Trish!” Chris said warningly, with a sidelong look at Michelle.

Trish glanced at Michelle and bit her lip. “Sorry, never mind.”

“_Madam Hooch is really laying down the law to both captains; like the rest of us, she wants to see a good, clean game of Quidditch out there. Well, good luck with that! Anyway, that’s all done with, the balls are in the air, and we’re underway! No, hang on, we’re not. There’s a whistle already for a foul on Applebee, Urquhart with an elbow to the Hufflepuff Chaser’s face as she scooped up the loose Quaffle, and that’s a Cobbing penalty to the Badgers. That looks like it’s burst her nose, too, Applebee’s bleeding pretty heavily but showing no signs of heading off for some running repairs. She wants the Quaffle for the penalty shot, too. That’s one tough girl right there, ladies and gentlemen! Courage, beauty, and other formidable assets-_”

“_Jordan! Do I have to_-”

Exactly what Professor McGonagall had to do was lost in another timely microphone failure.

“Damn it, poor Tammy!” groaned Michelle. Becky was leaning forward over the railing, swearing at the top of her lungs at Urquhart along with a sizeable proportion of the Hufflepuff crowd.

Chris stayed in his seat but looked grim. “I think we can take it as read that this isn’t going to be pretty.”

“_Sorry folks, slight technical hitch. Angelina, you know I’ve only got eyes for you, babe! Anyway, it’s Applebee with the Quaffle to take the penalty. She’s off, racing towards the hoops now... a little pump-fake and it’s _saved_ by Bletchley! A decent save from Bletchley in the end, and he keeps hold of the Quaffle, but Applebee will be disappointed with that._”

The crowd howled its disappointment, and Tammy swept around the left-hand side of the stadium and tore back into centre field. Michelle thought she heard her shout, “Sorry guys!” to the others, while Bletchley went short to Urquhart with the Quaffle. The game was finally on in earnest.

* * * * *

Mike rescued Gwion from a Bludger hit by Crabbe and instead launched it hard at Warrington, forcing him to duck and let Pucey’s pass fall past him. Gwion was first to the Quaffle, copping a fierce buffeting from Urquhart as he set Zach free. This time, he scored, and a few minutes later, Gwion added a second. This early lead only inspired the Slytherins to fly even more aggressively, barging and elbowing at close quarters while their Chasers worked hard with Crabbe and Goyle to deny Mike and Maxi access to the Bludgers.

It was probably inevitable that it would be Warrington that broke free for the Slytherin’s first chance of the game. The roar of the crowd reached fever pitch as the distance between the two narrowed, but Evan kept his eyes and mind focused on the job in hand and read it correctly to reel in Warrington’s shot for the right hoop. Recovering, he saw Warrington still flying straight for him, his face twisted in rage and the curses he was mouthing lost in the sea of cheers that greeted his save. Evan kept his face emotionless and waited until the last second before dropping into a sloth-grip roll. Warrington went searing past him, the slipstream buffeting Evan fiercely, and Evan looked back over his shoulder as he righted himself just in time to see Warrington flinch violently as he realised his position and only narrowly avoided clothes-lining himself on one of the hoops. The shrieking jeers of the crowd can’t have done anything to improve the Slytherin’s mood. Tammy was charging after him in case he came back for a second shot at Evan, but it was Pucey, of all people, that hauled Warrington away.

Smith added his second goal and Hufflepuff’s third, but the game was rapidly devolving into a foul-fest. When they concentrated on actually playing, the Slytherin side weren’t too bad, and made Evan work several times, but instead they seemed determined to batter the Hufflepuffs into submission instead. Owen Summerby got a Bludger through the tail-feathers of his broom, nearly unseating him, before another penalty for Hufflepuff, this time for a brutal-looking collision between Urquhart and Warrington and Gwion which left the big Welshman listing. This time, Tammy scored, and it was probably a wise move on Zach’s part to signal for a time-out before play restarted. Evan flew forward to join the huddle while Smith complained loudly to Madam Hooch.

“-bunch of bloody animals!” Tammy was fuming to Maxi. It was difficult to hear each other over the crowd, and blood still coated the lower half of Tammy’s face and the front of her robes, while her nose looked badly swollen.

“Do you need to get yourself cleaned up, Tammy?” Gwion asked, still holding his shoulder from the earlier collision.

She grinned fiercely, “No way! Pucey’s squeamish and the little prick won’t come near me!”

Zacharias Smith belatedly pushed his way to the centre of the group. “Right, you’re all flying damn well, but I called this time-out to let things cool down a bit,” he said, panting somewhat. “Gwion, Tammy, are you both OK?”

“Just dandy,” Gwion growled. “Lend me that Beater’s bat, Mike, and I’ll straighten those bastards out in no time!”

Mike barked a sour laugh and flipped his bat to offer the handle to his irate friend. “I must have a spare somewhere, I’ll help.”

“All right, I know you’re pissed off, but let’s not sink to their level,” said Evan. “This is worse than I thought it would be, but if we concentrate on our Quidditch we’ll bury this lot. Urquhart and Warrington are only interested in picking fights, and you three have got them beaten in the chase. Owen, any sign of the Snitch?”

“Not yet. That Malfoy’s got a big mouth, hasn’t he?” Owen’s voice was steady, but the young Seeker looked a bit wide-eyed at the violence unfolding below him.

Evan nodded sharply. “A big mouth, and a rich daddy that bought his way into the team - but that’s all he’s got. Don’t let him get to you.”

“Anyone else?” Zach asked. “All right. Keep your wits about you, everyone, and let’s look after each other.”

* * * * *

“_That’s yet another penalty for Hufflepuff! Cadwallader’s squaring up to Urquhart, and this is threatening to boil over. Madam Hooch is in there, and it’s a penalty to Slytherin as well, now! Cadwallader must have said something, and I don’t blame him, but that will be a penalty to Slytherin as well as one for Hufflepuff._”

_Surely this can’t go on_, Michelle thought once again. Yet another penalty. The Hufflepuff team was winning handily, but they were taking a battering in the process. With every cross-check and elbow and foul, the crowd only roared louder.

“_It’s Smith to take, he’s probably the most mobile of the battered Hufflepuff Chasing unit. He’s got the Quaffle and he’s away on the whistle... goes right... and scores pretty easily in the end, that’s 120-40 to Hufflepuff, but now Pucey has the chance to get one back for the Snakes. He’s up against Fielding of Hufflepuff who’s already made some outstanding saves this afternoon. Come on, Evan, time for one more! Anyway, Pucey’s in the centre circle and here he goes..._”

Adrian Pucey took the Quaffle in the centre circle and, on Madam Hooch’s whistle, tore off towards the Hufflepuff hoops. Evan was there, calm and focused and waiting. As Pucey hit the scoring zone, she saw Evan lean forward a little in anticipation, almost like a runner getting up on their toes for the starter’s gun, and-

A black blur shot out of nowhere and struck Evan on the side of the head, snapping it around sickeningly even as Pucey let fly with the Quaffle. The ball sailed through the middle hoop unopposed, but Michelle could only watch in abject horror as Evan slumped forward and to his right, sliding off his broom and tumbling to the earth where he landed in a heap. All the breath shot out of her lungs, while around her, her fellow Hufflepuffs were going berserk. Michelle couldn’t drag her eyes away from that crumpled figure, deathly still. Hands grabbed her roughly, turning her and forcing her face into Becky’s shoulder.

“Don’t look! Don’t... for Merlin’s sake, don’t look!”

But even if she couldn’t see, she could hear snatches of voices amidst the deafening, outraged howl of the crowd around her.

“Merlin! Oh, Merlin, God, he’s not moving!”

“-was Crabbe. Everyone was watching the penalty, he just belted it at him-”

“I don’t think he even saw it.”

_Oh, Evan! Please be all right! Please, please be OK, how did I agree to this?_

Becky let go of her, and she tried to turn, but the blonde girl grabbed her cheeks with both hands to force her to look at her.

“Michelle, let’s go, let’s get out of here. You’ve seen enough.”

With a calm she didn’t feel, she lifted her friend’s hands away and turned to watch Madam Pomfrey hustle across the field, kneeling by Evan’s side. He was moving. He was moving, at least. In fact, Mike and Tammy seemed to be holding him down. There was the dull glint of a spell, and his movements ceased.

“Come on, mate, maybe we can stop by the medical station, but you shouldn’t stay here.”

The medical station was the very last place she wanted to be.

“I’m staying.”

Chris spluttered at her in appalled disbelief, “What? Michelle, don’t-”

“_I’m bloody well staying, Chris!_ And that goes for you, too, Becky! Leave me alone!” They let her go, and suddenly, she felt like the worst person alive for yelling at them. “I, I’m s-s-staying… here.”

She slumped back into her seat, her forearms on the railing in front of her, and tried to hold back the furious, terrified tears flooding down her cheeks. Beneath it all, she couldn’t hold back the sickening thought, _This is my fault. I could have stopped him. I could have stopped this. He would have stopped if I’d said…_

* * * * *

Fleeting shards of consciousness. A massive, ringing roar. An incoherent, frantic desperation to get to his feet. Voices, impossibly distant.

“Hold him!”

“Merlin, what a mess!”

“-legs! Get his legs!”

He fought frantically to free himself from whatever was pinning him down, but his bonds didn’t loosen. Light flashed, and the pain in his head spiked and subsided to a blinding agony. He could see. Sort of. A blurry shape resolved itself into... into... someone. Something was cradling his head. His face was wet.

A voice, clearer now, but still the deafening roar remained. “It’s OK, that will take care of the worst of it.”

Something scraped and tugged under his chin, and his head wobbled. The world wobbled with it.

“Thank the stars they put armouring charms in these helmets, or he’d have been in real trouble.”

The pressure on his arms and legs eased, but his stomach bubbled sickeningly and something hot and metallic was filling his throat.

“Damn it, Evan, Michelle’s going to kill you for this!”

“Yeah, maybe after she’s snogged him to death-”

His stomach lurched, and he managed to turn his head before it all came fountaining up through his mouth and nose. Someone nearby swore, and he was rolled onto his side. The pressure of resting his head on the ground was excruciating. He gagged a couple more times, but nothing came up.

“Is that all of it? Right, let’s get you off the field.”

His world lurched and heaved, each jolt another knife in his head, and he closed his eyes and concentrated on not throwing up again.

“Tammy, we’ve got to go. He’ll be all right.”

_Who... Tammy?_

“They can’t be serious!”

“It’s not over until the snitch is bagged, you know that.”

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the nurse’s station set into the side of the pitch. Madam Pomfrey was hovering over him with a face like thunder, expertly swabbing and plying her wand. “Bloody sport! Quidditch ought to be banned,” she fulminated under her breath. “No, don’t move, you stupid boy!”

Evan tried to roll onto his side again, but he couldn’t quite coordinate his movements and the nurse pushed him back down. He needed to roll over, needed to be the other way up, if only he could get his muscles to cooperate. Madam Pomfrey turned away to rummage in her bag for a second and he heaved himself over. Momentarily, he succeeded, only to topple into space. The ground was harder than seemed possible, and if he could have summoned the breath he’d have screamed. Maybe he was. It was several moments or maybe eternity before the paralysing agony receded enough for him to realise that the nurse was crouched over him again, one hand under his head, supporting it off the floor, and the other resting on his shoulder.

“-of all the stubborn, bone-headed-!”

He tuned out her chuntering and scrabbled determinedly at the ground. If only it wouldn’t keep sneaking away from him.

“What on earth are you trying to do, you poor lad?”

He succeeded in rolling onto his belly and slowly, painfully, braced his forearms and pulled his knees under him until he was on all fours. He stayed there, panting but victorious, and let his head hang free between his shaking arms. It felt so much better. Something hot and wet trickled freely from his mouth and nose, and he didn’t need to look to know it was blood. He stayed there, gulping air in great, sobbing breaths, and after a moment, Madam Pomfrey resumed her wand-work. Finally, she grasped his shoulders and eased him upright. He would have flopped over if she hadn’t had a firm grip on him.

“Let’s sit you up, now. Easy, easy... that’s it. Now, you need to drink this. All of it, no matter what. Understand?”

He grunted in reply, and felt a glass beaker clack against his teeth. The potion felt like liquid ice and tasted like fermented cat piss mixed with overripe cherries and turpentine. He gagged, but forced himself to swallow - and another swallow, then another, and still it kept coming.

“Good lad, keep going. Keep going, almost there...”

Finally, the revolting beaker was empty, and he shuddered, gasping for breath, as the beaker was taken away from him. His guts were full of solid ice, and he could feel the leaden chill creeping out through his body and, strangely, seeming to congregate in his inner ears and burn its way inwards.

A hand was rubbing between his shoulder blades. “OK, you’ll need to sit very quietly for a while. Do you want to sit up, or back as you were?”

“Si’ up,” he mumbled, struggling to form the words. She twisted him around and leaned him back against something solid, then carefully untangled his legs so that he was in a normal sitting position, his knees bent and feet braced against the ground. The all-consuming pain in his head was starting to recede a little, chilled to numbness by whatever the potion was doing. The loud roar outside continued, a cacophony of voices swelling and ebbing between the thunder of feet on wooden boards. Opening his eyes, he saw the school nurse kneeling in front of him, her usually-pristine uniform daubed and smeared with blood. She looked intently into his eyes and raised her wand. The tip started to glow, and she moved it in a slow pattern in front of him. Whatever the result, she lowered it and smoothed his hair back off his forehead, a surprisingly-gentle gesture.

“You’re lucky you have a hard head, Mr. Fielding.”

He blinked, which almost turned into a slow nod. He felt a hand under his chin.

“No, stay awake for me. That’s better.”

He swallowed, still tasting blood in his mouth. “Whass ‘at?” he asked, his voice an awful rasp. “Tas’ bloody ‘orrible.” His lips felt numb and the words didn’t quite come out right, but Madam Pomfrey’s lips twitched in amusement. She held up a bottle but, squint as he might, he couldn’t make sense of the words. After a moment, she came to his rescue.

“Herr Doktor Gall’s Celebrated Cerebral Contusion Confounding Concoction. Just the thing for a boy with a head injury.”

His lips moved silently for a moment, trying to fix the words in his mind, but they only splintered and dissolved on him, leaving a sense of complex confusion. “You machk tha’ up,” he accused her.

Again, that little twitch of her lips. “I can assure you I’m not, Mr. Fielding. It should deal with the effects of the severe concussion you suffered, and I have healed the cuts and broken facial bones. You’re lucky it’s not worse.”

Behind them, a door opened, but he didn’t try to turn to see who it was.

“How is he, Poppy?” The familiar voice of Professor McGonagall.

“A moment, Minerva. Now, Mr. Fielding, as I said, you need to sit here quietly and not try to move about. Don’t fall asleep if you can help it, and try not to give yourself any more bumps and bangs. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Evan nodded and let his eyes fall shut again. He heard the swish of fabric, but only a few steps across the room. He tried to listen in as she and McGonagall spoke.

“He’s going to be all right?”

“He should be. He’s a lucky boy. What’s happening out there?”

“The next best thing to a riot, I’m afraid. The staff are trying to get things under control, but it’s a futile task at the moment. Severus and Umbridge are trying to protect the Slytherins, but they’re almost as much a target as their students.”

“Wonderful. Why do we permit this ridiculous sport to be played here, again?”

“Oh, don’t start that nonsense again, Poppy! It’s too late now, and, as stupid as it sounds, the thing that might help restore order fastest is if they can get the game restarted. At least it’ll provide a distraction. Does he need St. Mungo’s?”

“No, just to rest for a while and then a good, long sleep. I’ll keep him in the hospital wing over night, just for observation, but he’ll be fine.”

He heard a hissing sigh. “I knew this was going to happen. Pomona was worried about it, too, and what’s worse is that Umbridge has almost deliberately provoked it. She must have known what she was doing by lifting Fielding’s ban!”

“He didn’t have to play, though, did he?”

“Pomona says she tried to talk him out of it - but it’s his last match as a student.” There was a derisive snort, “And let’s be honest; if it wasn’t this, it was going to be something else. I’d better go and see what sort of a disaster is evolving out there. Assuming it’s within my direct subject matter, of course, or I shall be forced to sit on my wand while they burn the stadium down around their ears.”

* * * * *

Time passed. Evan couldn’t say how much, but gradually his thoughts became more coherent and the hissing thrum of his blood in his ears dimmed. One side of his face felt puffy and strangely fragile, and he had a very odd feeling like an ice-cream headache from the potion. The noise overhead had subsided considerably, but Madam Pomfrey had to make several excursions, either through the back of the nurse’s station, or out the other side. On one such trip, Evan took advantage of her absence to haul himself up onto very wobbly legs and stagger a few steps to flop down on the other side of the treatment table and sit back against one of its legs. That gave him a view of the pitch, and he could see most of the action unfolding. With an effort, he pulled off his gloves and, looking around, spied his helmet and broom lying just inside the nurse’s position off the pitch. He stared at them for a moment, and dropped his gloves into his lap.

Madam Pomfrey hurried back in, scowling when she saw that he’d moved, but made no comment. She checked his eyes again and seemed satisfied with whatever it was that she saw.

He turned his attention back to the action on the pitch. He could see his friends had been forced to drop back into a six-broom defensive formation, with Smith playing a rush keeper - who didn’t appear to be that keen on doing any rushing. He winced as a green-clad flyer cross-checked one of the chasers - Tammy, judging by the flying blonde ponytail - and stole the Quaffle. Tammy lurched away, hunching forward and grabbing her shoulder with her other hand, and the Slytherins beat the rapidly-retreating Smith to score easily.

That seemed to be about the sum of the game. The Slytherins were happy to knock the Hufflepuffs around and pile up goals as they felt like it. There was a brief roar as Owen Summerby had a sudden dash, but that died away into groans as Malfoy simply fouled him and gave up the penalty. Clearly, he wanted to string their advantage out for as long as possible. Just to add to the fun, the threatening clouds overhead had begun to leak their loads, and soon a steady rain set in. He could see the flashes in the stand opposite as the rain-proofing charms went up to keep the spectators dry, but there was no such protection for the players.

Gwion took the Quaffle, but his aim was poor and he missed just above Bletchley’s right-hand hoop. He felt his stomach twist at seeing his big mate’s shoulders slump as he twisted away and flew back to his own end, taking up defensive stations once more.

The only advantage left to the Hufflepuffs was their two fierce Irish warriors. Mike and Maxi flew almost in a frenzy to dominate the Bludgers and make sure the Slytherins didn’t have everything their way. Crabbe and Goyle were big but not especially mobile, and it wasn’t long before he saw a well-aimed Bludger from Maxi make its mark on Crabbe. The score, though. The score was… it took a while for the meaning of the numbers to congeal in his head. 130-210. How long had he been out of the game? But the Snitch remained elusive, and all he could do was grit his teeth and swear, willing his friends to hang in there.

The one-way traffic continued, but as time ticked on, Evan was starting to feel stronger and more alert. As an experiment, he stood up again, finding himself surer on his feet this time, and sat on the edge of the treatment table. Madam Pomfrey gave him a warning look, but he made no more attempts to move and concentrated on the game, and she left him alone.

The more he watched, the angrier he got - at the Slytherins, at himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have played. Then again, how could he possibly have left poor Rafa to face this sort of treatment, because he had a feeling the game would have been played out just the same. How _dare_ they do this to his mates!

A Bludger spun Smith’s broom right around, nearly unseating him, and he got Pucey’s Quaffle flush in the face, putting him down. It prevented a goal, but Smith signalled weakly for yet another time-out, and Evan heard a low growl from behind him before Madam Pomfrey marched out onto the pitch once more, her medical bag clutched in her hand. Furious, Evan watched her re-set Smith’s nose and clean up the blood, and he made a decision. Ramming his gloves back onto his hands, he gathered up his helmet and broom, swung a leg over and kicked off, swooping a rather wobbly way back into the action.

* * * * *

Madam Pomfrey quickly patched Smith up again, and had turned to walk back to her station when Michelle saw her suddenly throw out an arm and shout, and there was a huge roar from the crowd on the far side.

“Oh, by Merlin’s sainted underpants, you’re kidding!” Trish gasped.

Michelle looked down, and to her utter, abject horror, she saw a seventh Hufflepuff join the game.

“No!”

She buckled forward, almost like she’d taken a Bludger to the stomach herself, but the sight that met her disbelieving eyes was swiftly confirmed by Lee Jordan.

“_I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it, Evan Fielding has returned to the field of play for the beleaguered Badgers! That was a _terrible_ blow to the head he took earlier, but somehow he’s dragged himself back out to help his team-mates. Madam Pomfrey is having kittens on the sideline and I don’t blame her!_”

“Oh, no! No, no, no, no!” she sobbed, even as the tears started to flood down her face in sickening despair once more.

“Michelle,” Becky said helplessly, hugging her.

Dimly, she heard Chris’ voice. “They’ve got to stop it. Surely they can’t permit this, _surely_!”

“That’s the rules, it’s not over until the Snitch is bagged,” Trish said in a sick voice, although Michelle couldn’t drag her eyes away from the field. Evan was intercepted halfway to his hoops by his teammates, who formed a tight huddle around him. She could see Maxi and Tammy yelling furiously, and Mike trying to hold them back, while Evan simply sat on his broom, swaying slightly, and ignored them. Eventually, Madam Hooch came over and spoke to them, and reluctantly flew back to the centre spot and blew her whistle to restart the game.

Michelle had both hands pressed tightly into her aching gut like she was about to vomit, and she wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t. _How could he? How could he even think about going out for more punishment?_ But she knew the answer; his friends. He couldn’t bear to let his friends down. He would not seek a fight, but equally, he would not be himself if he didn’t stand with them.

“Oh, _Evan!_”

* * * * *

“Evan! Evan, what the hell are you doing, you crazy bastard!” Maxi was screaming at him.

Tammy shoved him hard in the chest, “Get off the bloody pitch before you get yourself killed! Are you insane?!”

“Tammy, leave off him!” Mike shouted, pushing her arm away.

“Don’t bloody touch me, Mike! He’s not-”

Zacharias Smith joined them, pale and sweating. “Fielding, surely not?”

Madam Hooch pushed her way into the huddle, looking closely at him. “Fielding, are you absolutely sure you can continue?” she demanded.

“I’m sure,” he said as firmly as he could. The referee looked down at Madam Pomfrey, who appeared to be having apoplexy on the sideline, then back at Evan, and reluctantly flew for the centre spot. “Right then,” he said, as clearly as he could manage. “As you were. Smith, you play furthest forward. Tam, Gwion, in behind. Owen…,” His voice broke a little as he spoke, “Owen, for the love of all that’s holy, catch the damn Snitch so we can all pack it in.”

Maxi twisted her fist in the front of Summerby’s robes and hauled him closer. “Understand? Catch that bloody Snitch, or I swear-”

Madam Hooch’s whistle shrilled before anyone could respond, and they reluctantly broke and flew into the fray.

The game resumed with an even higher intensity. Being out in the chilly air with the cold rain in his face revived Evan even more. His concentration was fleeting and fragile, but started to build, second by second. Perhaps it was inevitable that Warrington would be the first to break free with the Quaffle, catching Gwion out with a switchback and taking a pass from Urquhart. He bore down on Evan with an ugly snarl on his face, and hurled the Quaffle through the right-hand hoop. Evan let it go, keeping his eyes on the Bludgers and Warrington, but Mike and Maxi had the Bludgers under control and all he got from Warrington was a trail of obscenities.

“_And Warrington scores, making it 280 points to 130 for Slytherin. Fielding didn’t move, I don’t know if he even saw it. What I do know is that he shouldn’t be out there. Evan, mate, I don’t often say this when it comes to Quidditch, but-_”

Evan tuned Lee Jordan’s voice out and took Tammy’s pass after she retrieved the Quaffle for him. He sized up the whirling Chasers in front of him, then picked out Zacharias Smith with a long-ish pass, and they were back underway again.

Being back to full strength seemed to hearten his team-mates. First Gwion scored, and then, after a long passage of play, Tammy narrowly missed adding another, and with each minute that passed the fog in his head lifted a little more, and he could fly a little sharper. Feeling more confident, he pushed forward to the edge of the scoring zone and provided a pivot for the Chasing unit, helping them switch play. Crabbe and Goyle were doing their best to capture the Bludgers and send them his way, but Maxi and Mike fought like demons to maintain command of the balls.

Pucey broke free and tried to give him the eyes, sending him the wrong way, but Evan read it and blocked the first attempt, and the follow-up from Urquhart. The roar from the crowd at each save was absolutely deafening, and the surge of adrenaline that gave him was like a jolt of lightning. He went short to Gwion, then got it back and switched play to Smith out wide, while Mike went screaming past him to intercept a Bludger. Smith passed to Tammy, who looped the ball under her broom and behind her back to Gwion just as she was body-checked by Urquhart, sending her spinning, but Gwion tore forward to the edge of the scoring zone despite Warrington’s attempt to intercept him, and just when it looked like he’d been forced away and baled up, he heaved the Quaffle out to Tammy, who gleefully dumped it through the right-hand hoop. Around them, the stadium was going berserk, the noise ringing painfully around Evan’s aching head.

He snarled to himself at seeing Mike and Maxi exchange a high-five as they circled around again. “_Yellows! Focus! Do not let it slip, now! Play in tight for the next few_.”

“_Keep yer shirt on, big man!_” Gwion roared back at him. “_We’ll do the bastards, never fear!_”

* * * * *

The game was unrelenting torture for Michelle. Battered, bloodied, awkwardly hunched on his broom, Evan was still out there and, incredibly, driving the team on from the back. They were heartened by his return, too, she could see it in the way they flew more aggressively, fought harder, all for their good mate and_ de facto _captain at the back. Chris and Ravi had done their best to persuade her to head back to the castle, but she didn’t listen. _I have to be here. I have to stay for him._ Illogically, she felt that leaving would be abandoning him, and that only by staying could she make sure he would be safe. _And that’s all I want, now. Be safe, Evan. Be safe._

Quidditch was never safe. As everyone knew, that was part of the attraction, and Evan and his teammates hurled themselves around the skies with every ounce of ferocity and skill they possessed, all to the frenzied accompaniment of Lee Jordan’s commentary.

“_Outstanding from Fielding! That’s another brilliant save, how they will miss him next season! Fielding, McManus, and especially O’Flaherty are the heartbeat of this Hufflepuff side, and it’s nice work again from O’Flaherty there, that Bludger right past Urquhart’s nose! Cadwallader, now, tries to find Applebee but Pucey intercepts! It’s McManus to the rescue, his Bludger knocking the Quaffle out of Pucey’s hand, recovered by Smith. Smith, struggles free under heavy pressure from Warrington! He’s found Cadwallader, short to Smith again, and he’s breaking free! Smith to Cadwallder, finds Applebee on his outside, now, she shoots… and _scores_! Applebee scores, bringing Hufflepuff back to 160, it’s 160 to 300-_”

The crowd’s roar had taken on an even more urgent enthusiasm, the stadium shaking with the noise and stomping feet and cheers.

“If Summerby actually gets the Snitch, they could win this,” Trish said in disbelief, through the racket around them. “No-one would have given them a prayer of that, twenty minutes ago.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care, so long as it’s over,” Michelle whispered, her arms wrapped around her aching middle and her eyes fixed on Evan.

Ravi rubbed her back in small circles. “Hang in there, mate. Won’t be long n-”

“_Snitch!_” shrieked Becky, along with at least half the stadium, throwing out an arm. Michelle dragged her eyes away, and she saw Owen stretching out flat along his broom, urging it to top speed, and Malfoy’s hand flailing for the twigs of Owen’s broom - _and missing_. The Slytherin Seeker took off in pursuit with a look of sudden panic on his face.

“_Summerby and Malfoy are neck and neck, heading for the Slytherin end, but Urquhart and Pucey are breaking towards the Hufflepuff hoops with the Quaffle! Goyle collects a Bludger and finds Crabbe! Urquhart, exchanges passes, beats Cadwallader!” _Lee’s voice reached an almost-hysterical screech of excitement. _“Malfoy dodges a Bludger from O’Flaherty, Summerby’s reaching out, Crabbe with the Bludger as Urquhart shooooots! _Saaaaaved! _Saved by Fielding!_”

The crowd’s roar almost drowned out his following words, but there was no way Michelle could have missed the unmistakable, sickening black of a Bludger slamming into Evan once again, sending him spiralling wildly down to the ground. The Quaffle soared away on his punch, but Evan vanished from her view amidst the sea of heaving, leaping, celebrating Hufflepuffs around her.

“_Summerby has the Snitch, but Fielding took on the Bludger to make the save, and _that_ makes the difference! Hufflepuff 310, Slytherin 300! It’s all over! The place. Is. G_oing. Bananas!_ And the Badgers have won the game! We’ve had some dramatic games here at Hogwarts in the last seven years, but _that_ takes the biscuit! Hufflepuff 310, Slytherin 300! Applebee and O’Flaherty are straight over to Fielding, and the rest of the Hufflepuff side aren’t far behind them. That Bludger looks like it’s done some major damage, and you have to fear for him after coming back on after that earlier head injury.”_

She shoved someone aside, not caring who, and leaned out over the railing until she could see the Hufflepuff end and the yellow-and-black clad figure motionless on the ground, lying in an awkward heap on his left side. Tammy and Maxi were kneeling over him, and Tammy seemed to be supporting his head, while Madam Pomfrey was approaching at a run.

“Michelle? Michelle, come on, mate, let’s get back to the castle.” Trish tried to lead her away, but she pulled her arm free and watched the mediwitch crouch next to him and go to work. “Michelle, _please_.”

Chris was there, too. “Come on, mate. Madam Pomfrey’s got him. He’s going to be fine.”

Feeling sick and hollow and exhausted, she gave in and let her friends lead her out of the stands and back to the castle.

* * * * *

“Hang in there, mate, you’re going to be fine.”

He could barely hear the voice through his ringing ears, even though he knew it must come from one of his mates. Through half-lidded eyes, he could see the mud-daubed trousers and robes of someone kneeling beside him, although he couldn’t tell who. He didn’t recognise the voice, either. Hearing seemed to be several notches down the bodily rankings, somewhere after the need to breathe and the runaway winner, pain. Every desperate, gulping heave of his chest was like inhaling broken glass, and his head pounded frantically, in time with his racing pulse. Breathing meant moving, and he was very reluctant to do that, but his lungs were on fire and his chest throbbed with the need, and he ended up with the unhappy compromise that didn’t do anything to help either problem.

Something crashed over him, like a bucket of water with a wave of cool fire hard on its heels, and the worst of the pain in his chest subsided.

“-witless, bone-headed things I have ever seen in my life! I’ve got a bloody good mind to leave you there!”

_Oh. Madam Pomfrey. Well, I’m going to be as popular as a flatulent firecrab at a wedding_.

“Keep holding him, Miss Applebee. Miss O’Flaherty, shift so that you’re kneeling behind him, make sure he can’t roll over that way. That’s it.”

People began to shift carefully, but he just left the words to drift past and let his eyes close and let them do as they would, and concentrated on _breathing_. Meanwhile, the Matron continued to harangue him furiously, even as she worked on his injuries. It seemed a long time before his breathing steadied and his pulse began to slow. The pain was beginning to fade to something manageable, but his shoulder and arm chose to check in and… yes, that hurt like he’d been kicked by an angry hippogriff, as well.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. Tammy was crouched over him, her eyes red-rimmed. The rain ran off her hair and dripped from her chin, but she was crying, too, and he tried to summon a smile. Mistake. She was holding his head as he lay on his left side.

“You absolute idiot!” she choked, in a wavering voice. He could hear better, now. Nice.

“That should do it for now, but if we can, I should get this potion into him. Mr. Fielding? Mr. Fielding.”

_Oh. That’s me_. He swivelled his eyes up, trying not to move his head in case it fell off. At least one Madam Pomfrey swam into view in front of him, peering intently into his eyes.

“We’re going to sit you up for a moment. Miss O’Flaherty, be careful of his arm, don’t let it move from there, understand? Right, on three, now, one-two-three. Gently now, gently. That’s it.”

Strong hands lifted, and he tried to help them. In a few seconds, he was sitting upright and feeling a tiny sense of triumph. Rain pelted down, little soft impacts on his scalp and face, running through his hair. He could taste blood, and cool, clear water, too. The scent of earth rose from beneath him, mingled with his sweat. _What an odd thing to notice_.

“Right, you need to swallow this. Here we go. Tilt his head back a little for me.”

He took a long swallow, but the taste made him choke, and he spluttered his way through the rest of the mouthful, trying not to spray it everywhere. They took the bottle away and let him cough, but all too soon, he was having to finish the rest of it. What it was, he didn’t know. In a way, he didn’t really care.

The task complete, they eased him down onto the ground, and he let his eyes fall shut again while they loaded him onto a stretcher.

_Over. Done. One last time._


	28. The Friar's Cell

She drifted aimlessly through the crowds of her house-mates, all buffeting her with questions and sympathy and shock. Chris and Ravi guided her back to the common room, where all she could do was collapse in a chair while they stood guard around her and… and hope. Hope that he would be all right. Hope that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. A short time later the Quidditch team came in, but there was no celebration, no party. Maxi’s bluff optimism, Tammy and Mike’s uneasy, unconvincing reassurance, even Ravi and Chris’ helpless uncertainty, all of it honest and well-intentioned, but all she wanted was _him_. That warm look, the small, familiar smile, the quiet voice and ‘I’m all right, really’, but instead she had Gwion sick with apology for failing to protect him, and Becky’s rage at everything - at the Slytherins, at Evan, at the teachers, at Umbridge, at all of them - for allowing it to happen, and she just wanted to get away, to leave it behind to, to… what? To think, to hope, to scream and curse, to cry? All of them at once? Because she felt all of the things her friends were feeling, too, and everything was such a jumble, she didn’t know what came first except the utter _dread_, and the memory of the blood-soaked, deathly-still figure being carried from the field on a stretcher.

Everywhere she went, people were there. The common room was packed. Her dorm offered little real privacy. The Great Hall was a ridiculous thought. She wanted somewhere dark and silent and where no one would hear her. She couldn’t even leave the common room without well-meaning people tagging on ‘for her protection’ - and besides, where would she go? The unofficial social room near Ravenclaw Tower was too far and not in any way private. Professor Sprout’s office? How could she throw her Head of House out of her own office? _And she’ll probably be busy writing an owl to Rachael_…

But the Professor’s office brought something else to mind. After fending off her friends’ well-meaning concern, she took the short trip to Professor Sprout’s office, and then continued a few feet further on to a small, unremarkable door. The door was undersized, made of ancient oak banded with blackened iron. There was no lock, just a simple latch that she lifted to let herself in. She had to duck her head to pass through, a sort of enforced genuflection, and the door swung shut behind her with a hollow boom.

To say the room was sparse was an understatement. It was barely large enough for the few pieces of furniture it held; a narrow cot ran along one wall, and beside it was a simple wooden table and chair. Light came from a plain, iron candelabra, and down a long shaft that ran to the outside, casting the weak sun’s glow on the unadorned wooden cross on the wall that was the room’s only decoration. She ran her fingers along the back of the chair. There was no dust on any of the surfaces, proof of the diligence of Hogwarts’ army of house-elves, so she pulled out the chair and dropped heavily into it, and finally she could be alone in the silence and the peace and the half-light and try to sort through the emotions roaring through her blood.

How much time passed, she couldn’t tell, but when at last she was aware of her surroundings again, the light coming down the high shaft had faded, leaving only the light of the candles, burning steadily in the undisturbed air… and a dim, pale glow from the corner behind her. She lifted her head off her arms, crossed on the table in front of her, and wiped her eyes before turning to see the Friar hovering anxiously over the bed.

“Sorry,” she said reflexively, her voice raspy, as she tried to gather her thoughts.

“Oh, bless you, my dear, don’t apologise,” he said softly, his hands working busily at a rosary, “Indeed, it is I who should beg forgiveness. My old cell is meant as a place of peace and reflection, after all, and it is ever open to all who are in need. I don’t mean to intrude, only to watch over you and ensure that you are safe.”

“Thanks. I… I just really needed to be alone for a while. To think.”

He smiled at her sympathetically. “Again, you are very welcome. I shall depart once more, if you wish, but I shall return from time to time to ensure you are all right.”

“No! I-it’s OK.” Michelle sniffed loudly and wiped her eyes again, strangely angry at herself for being in such a state. “I just, uh…”

He watched her in silence for a moment. “It is absolutely no bother or inconvenience to me, I assure you. I am long since relieved of my earthly needs, but my pastoral duties continue. Perhaps I can offer counsel _sub rosa_, if it would help? Or even just an ear to listen?”

“I… yeah. Maybe.”

The Friar floated closer to her, and made as if to sit on the bed, for all that the sheets never so much as wrinkled beneath his bulk. “Please, tell me what has happened to upset you so,” he said, his usually jovial voice quiet and gentle.

She sat a little straighter, not quite able to look at the kindly old ghost, and began to speak, her arms wrapped around her aching middle. There was no real structure to her words, they just spilled out in a mess of history, and fear, and Quidditch, and anger, and guilt. The Friar listened patiently, never speaking or interrupting, until she finally stumbled to a halt. His head was bowed and his fingers still worked at the rosary, but somehow she could feel the weight of his attention on her, reassuring and unjudgemental.

“And there is no news of your friend’s condition?”

“Tammy said… said he wasn’t hurt as badly. At the end. That he’ll be all right, but I can’t… Madam Pomfrey will be busy, and I can’t even bring myself to go up there. Why not, for Merlin’s sake? What’s _wrong_ with me? Even if I don’t see him, I’d, I’d _know_.” A hollow chuckle burst out of her, almost a sob, “And if I do see him, right now I don’t know whether I’d kiss him or kill him. Or both at the same time.”

“You are afraid for him, and angry that he would step into danger when perhaps he could have stepped aside, instead. A choice he has made several times, now. Anger and fear are close cousins and make for a potent conflict.” He looked up and met her eyes. “Especially when crossed with love.”

She quickly looked away, tears burning in her eyes once more. “We _talked_ about this. I know he didn’t want to do it, not really, but… he thought it would be OK. I guess in the end, I did too, so why am I so damn angry at him?”

“You have all too recently seen another close friend pass untimely from this life. How could you not fear for him?” He looked at her shrewdly, “Sometimes, it is easier to be angry than to admit you are afraid. I think the fear is much stronger than the anger, isn’t it?”

“I… yeah. And, and, I think maybe it’s my fault? I mean, he picked a fight because of me, of what happened to me. And he said it blew up into something so big that he didn’t know what else to do to defuse it. And he didn’t know if he’d done the right thing in the end, or what he was supposed to do, and…” She took a deep, shivery breath, “He’s been angry, too, I think. Not with me, never with me, but… I’ve seen him do things this year that he’d never do before. And… and without Cedric, people tend to look to him. I know I do it. Our friends all do it, too, and that forces him to make decisions. I think he resents being forced into that, sometimes.”

“Perhaps he does. Adulthood often means taking decisions where all the choices seem wrong, and having to choose anyway. Sometimes, the decision of which choice is the ‘least wrong’ can only be weighed in your heart and soul. And that can be where those choices leave scars.”

_That sounds like the voice of experience. Well, I’ve always wondered…_ “Can I ask you a question, Friar? How did you become a ghost?”

“Oh, the usual way, the usual way. I died, you know,” he said flippantly. He held his hands apart, then clasped them again, and his smile faded. “I was prideful. How wonderful to be able to cure the sick, how wonderful to be feted and welcomed earnestly everywhere I went. To bring light and hope. I was warned. I was warned, but in my pride, I did not act circumspectly but instead continued to travel and carouse and heal as I had always done. Eventually, I was faced with a triumvirate of the bishops of my order. I was to cease my healing which was an offence against God and devote myself to the penitent and ascetic life of the mendicants of my order, or I would be excommunicated and damn my immortal soul in perpetuity. For a time, I ceased to supplement my ministrations with magic. It troubled me deeply, for how could God grant me such a precious gift and yet damn me for using it and the good it could bring? And so, around me, people died who need not have, and that lay very heavy on my conscience. I knew not what I should do, no matter how much I prayed for guidance.

“And then came my undoing. The daughter of a good and honest friend of mine for many years had suffered a very difficult childbirth, and lay dying. The child would live, but there was no hope for the mother unless I was to use my gift. And when I saw my friends and their anguish and suffering… how could I not? But, inevitably, news of such a recovery would reach the wrong ears, and so it came to pass. I suffered the scorn of my order and excommunication in front of my peers, before they lifted me atop a pyre and kindled a fire. But in despair and in terror for my mortal soul, which would surely now never pass to God’s side… I lingered. In the moment of death, I lingered, and I linger still. And yet, I do not know that my choice to save her was wrong. Perhaps I shall always linger, until I find an answer to that question.”

Michelle was silent for several moments, trying to comprehend the Friar’s choices. Hope and despair. Life and death. Faith and fire. “Thank you for telling me. And I’m so sorry.”

He simply smiled. “You’re too kind, my dear. Perhaps the true test of my faith is whether I was brave enough to take that step, to face my Maker and trust in His forgiveness. And perhaps that is the most precious thing of all, for we are all of us fallible. Can you forgive your friend? You understand his thoughts, you know his choices, good or bad. Can you forgive him?”

She felt tears spring to her eyes again. _Could I? Of course I could_._ I think I already have, haven’t I?_ “Yes,” she whispered, her voice choked.

The Friar bent closer to her and made as if to take her hands in his, then hesitated and drew back, realising the futility of the gesture. “Then all there is left to say is, _Ego te absolvo_, my dear. Perhaps you need to hear the words. _Ego te absolvo_, if you can forgive your beloved. _Ego te absolvo_, if only you can forgive yourself.”

She could only look at him, blinking back tears, but he simply smiled understandingly. “I’m sure you need some time to yourself. I shall leave you to your thoughts, but if you need me, please call and I will answer.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He gave her one last, sympathetic look, and quietly faded through the wall like smoke.

* * * * *

Evan woke on Sunday morning, tired and feeling like he’d been run over by a herd of hippogriffs. His arm and shoulder had been carefully strapped to immobilise them, and his face felt very strange indeed. The broken bones had been healed and there was no visible bruising, but there was a sort of peculiar, ghost-memory of the injuries that seemed to lurk in his bones, giving him a faint ache and occasional twinge. Madam Pomfrey was in to see him shortly after, and while her care was as thorough and professional as always, her icy manner left him in absolutely no doubt as to her thoughts on his behaviour the previous day. The best thing to do was keep his mouth shut and cooperate as quickly as possible with her requests.

After breakfast, Mike and Maxi called in on him, peering anxiously around the curtain before breaking into relieved smiles at seeing him sitting up in one piece. To his surprise, he got a firm hug from both of his Irish friends, being careful to avoid his bad shoulder.

“Good job you’ve got a hard head, mate,” said Mike, thumping him on the back before letting go and giving him a sheepish grin. If anything, Maxi hugged him even tighter.

“Ya great, big, daft eejit,” she said gruffly. “Never do that to me again. Never!”

“Sorry, guys.”

“Yer a bloody madman, Evan,” she grumbled. “So, what’s the damage this time?”

He puffed out his cheeks. “Concussion. A busted arm. Shoulder, a couple of ribs. Detention until the end of time if Madam Pomfrey’s got anything to do with it, probably.”

“Another detention? What for?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

They didn’t laugh.

“When do you get out of here?” Mike asked, trying to cover the awkwardness.

“Probably not for a day or two. What’s been happening down in Hufflepuff?”

Mike shrugged. “It’s been a bit weird. The younger ones had a hell of a party. The rest of us just wanted to get some rest.”

“An’ we were worried about ya, too, o’ course,” Maxi added.

“How is everyone? You were all looking pretty beaten up, from what I remember.”

“Aye, we’re OK. Madam Pomfrey patched us up after, an’ then it’s nothing that a good sleep wouldn’t fix.”

Evan looked at her, trying to work out how to ask, and she took pity on him.

“She’s all right,” she said quietly. “She took herself off for hours last night, dunno where. We were startin’ to panic a bit, to be honest, but she turned up in time for bed. Wouldn’t say much, mind.” She gave him a long look. “You two have got some talking to do when ya get out of here.”

That much seemed obvious. “Tell her I love her.”

Maxi looked away, troubled.

“We’ll try,” Mike said. “Becky’s looking after her, an’ she’s not in the mood to be forgiving, if ya know what I mean.”

He winced. Becky was never one to sit quietly if she had strong opinions, and she was a fiercely-loyal friend. He didn’t want to find out what it was like to be on the opposite side of her.

“Ah, give him a rest, Mike. Becky’ll be all right once she’s cooled off a bit,” said Maxi reassuringly.

“Let’s hope so.”

They moved on to more pleasant topics by general agreement. There was a general mood of optimism in Hufflepuff that the Quidditch cup was a real possibility, ending a drought that went back far too many years. A low-scoring game between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor would do it, and it seemed likely that it would come down to the youngest Weasley against Cho Chang. If Cho could get the snitch, then combined with the Ravenclaw’s Chasers and Gryffindor’s abysmal Keeper, the Birds would take it, but if Ginny could get there first, then Hufflepuff were in with a great chance. For once, Slytherin were right out of it and keeping a low profile - or sulking, as Maxi cheerfully described it. It made a welcome change.

Ravi, Chris, and Tammy showed up together with Roger Davies, but Madam Pomfrey was reluctant to let so many visitors in at once, so Mike and Maxi volunteered to make way for them. After that, there was a steady stream of visitors - Trish, Kenny, Lee Jordan, most of the rest of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Quidditch teams, even Emma and Vinu - before the nurse chased them all away, insisting that Evan needed to rest.

To his surprise, he actually did fall asleep shortly before lunch, and slept late into the afternoon, awakening in a bleary, aching heap. This time, the prescription was loads of water, a potion, and a bar of chocolate. He was finishing the latter when he heard footsteps halt not far away, and looked up to see Becky looking down at him. He felt a swoop of apprehension at the thunderous look on her face.

“Hi,” he tried cautiously.

She didn’t reply, just continued to glare at him. He opened his mouth to try another gambit, and this time she cut across him.

“I suppose you’re pleased with yourself.” Her voice was flat and hard, with no trace of her usual, friendly cheer.

“No, not really.” A part of him wanted to tell her to just yell at him and get it over with, but sounding like he wasn’t taking her seriously would only make it worse. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have to wait long, in any case.

“But you haven’t been short of visitors. They were just about queuing in the hallway for a glimpse of the fallen hero, earlier,” she said bitterly.

He let the last jibe pass, as he couldn’t see a way to defuse it without sounding either conceited or false. “I’ve had a few, yes. Just about everyone, including you. Well, except Michelle, of course, but-”

“Except Michelle? Except Michelle?” She glared at him in disbelief, her voice growing louder with every word, “You have the absolute bloody gall to expect her to show up here after what you put her through? You complete _prick_!”

_OK, deep breath, because here it comes_. “No, I don’t. But I’m going to need to talk to her. If you see her, then please tell her I’m-”

“Tell her yourself, if she’ll listen to you! She ought to tell you to go to hell!”

He took a deep breath that shuddered in his throat, and kept his voice as quiet and level as possible. “We talked about it. And yes, we disagreed, but she understands why-”

She scoffed loudly, throwing a disbelieving hand in the air. “Oh, great! That makes it all OK, then! And now she understands you’d die to prove a point!”

“It was worse than I thought,” he said, realising the defensiveness in his voice but unable to stop himself.

Becky ripped her wand out of her pocket with a fearsome snarl, “If the next word out of your mouth is ‘But’, I swear, I will hex you into next week!”

“Then hex me!” he barked fiercely. “I had reasons!”

“You didn’t see what it did to her when that Bludger hit you, Evan!”

“It was worse than I thought! We talked about it, and I asked her not to come, but she’s seen rough games before-”

“_She thought you’d died_! And then-” she broke off, panting, her eyes burning holes in his, “And then you came back out, covered in blood and barely able to fly, to take some more.”

“And that probably wasn’t a great idea, but I couldn’t just sit there and watch my friends take a beating any longer.”

“Oh, but it’s OK if it’s you, is it?”

He hesitated. “I didn’t say-”

“_It’s a bloody game, Evan_!” she roared, “A stupid, pathetic _sport_! It’s not something worth dying over!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“_I don’t care_! Not good enough, Evan! Not bloody good enough, when you broke her heart!” She glared fiercely at him, her chest heaving with rage. “I wish I had a pensieve, because then you could see what you did to her. And if you ever cared for her, even a little, you wouldn’t have put her through absolute bloody torture. You didn’t stop to think of her or anything else, just your stupid _pride!_” She leaned closer, shoving her face right up into his, and spat, “_You don’t deserve her,_” with low, menacing intensity. With that, she spun on her heel and stormed out.

Evan tried not to flinch at the slamming of the hospital wing door.

A few moments later, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and strode over to check on him.

“Normally, I wouldn’t tolerate that sort of shouting in here, Mr. Fielding, but I think you deserved to hear that.”

“Maybe I did. But does she really think I hadn’t thought all that already?”

Madam Pomfrey glared at him levelly. “Given the mess I had to scrape up not once, but twice yesterday, I’d say she had a point.”

He decided to say nothing.

Her severe look softened, and she shook her head. “Sometimes, there is nothing more dangerous than someone who thinks they’re doing the right thing.”

He didn't really feel like arguing the toss, and settled for a neutral, “I suppose time will tell.”

Rather than reply, the nurse’s head perked up, and turned to look briefly in the direction of her office. With a short nod, she hurried out. Just as he was debating whether to settle down again or try to find a book or something to relieve the tedium, her head popped back through the curtains. “You have another visitor. A Slytherin.”

_That better bloody not be Warrington, come for round two. Or three, or wherever we’re up to, now_. “Gabriel Engel?”

“That’s right. He says he’s a friend of yours.”

“He is.”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, and disappeared. Seconds later, the thin frame of his friend took her place and stared down at him with one eyebrow raised.

“You look bloody terrible, Fielding.”

Somehow, that made him grin. “Thanks. I feel it, too.”

“No doubt you’ve been swarmed today, judging from the warm welcome.”

“I’ve had a good turnout, yes. Most of it good.” He grimaced, “Some of it not so good. I hope you didn’t hear Becky tearing into me, just now.

“I heard. I think most of the castle did, in fact,” Gabriel said drily.

He muttered a curse under his breath and shook his head. “Oh well. So, how’s things with you in Slytherin?”

“Me? Oh, sailing along, swan-like, towards a straight flush of Outstanding N.E.W.T.s, of course,” he said lightly. He made a face, and added, “Which is to say, making it look easy on top, and paddling like hell underneath. Thanks for those Transfig. notes from last week, by the way. I’ll get them back to you by Friday, latest.”

“No problem. You’re OK on Charms, though, right?”

“I think so, yes.” He summoned the chair and eased himself into it before continuing. “As for the rest of my housemates, they’re pretty subdued at the moment. Warrington got his big chance for revenge that he’s been banging on about - and, once again, he came out of it looking pretty stupid. You faced him down, you even came back out after that Bludger, and you damn Badgers even went and won the game. He’s raging, but the general consensus is that you’ve taken your stripes and it’s over. Needless to say, he’s about as popular as a flatulent fire crab at a wedding, right now, so even if he doesn’t like it, he’s basically on his own. That said, I think he’s dangerous enough that you’ll want to keep well away from him.”

“As far as possible. What’s the news on Montague?”

“His parents were talking about taking him home, but in the end, they left him here. He’s much better than he was, but he’s still not right, and he’s got no hope of sitting his N.E.W.T.s. I’m not sure if he’ll come back next year, or do them privately, or what.”

“So what _did_ happen to him? I know Warrington thinks it’s my fault somehow, but what really happened?”

“No idea. Apparently, he doesn’t remember anything from that day at all. It’s not a memory charm - or if it is, it’s been overtaken by whatever it was that happened to him after. Which is a very roundabout way of saying I don’t know, I suppose, but maybe it’ll come back to him in time.”

“Just as long as it gets his chums off my case, is all. He will be all right eventually, though?”

“So they say, it’s just taking a while.”

It was nice to sit and talk about normal things for a while, about the technical points of transmogrification versus transfiguration, and Mr. Filch’s attempts to keep up with Peeves’ latest mischief-making brainwaves in between punting students back and forth across the swamp on the fifth floor that was still defeating Umbridge’s attempts to remove it. Eventually, though, he glanced at his watch and got to his feet.

“Well, I hate to abandon you, but dinner is calling. Do try not to do yourself any more ridiculous injuries, won’t you?”

“I’ll do my best. Good to see you, Gabriel.”

The Slytherin boy took a couple of steps, but then paused with one hand on the curtain. “You know, on the whole, I think I’d rather like to see you live to finish school, Evan,” he said quietly. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too, Gabriel. I hate how exposed you are, down there on your own.”

He smiled. “Oh, I’m not on my own. Not entirely, at any rate. And, after seven years, you learn a few self-preservation tricks, I assure you.”

He watched his friend go, and could only hope his confidence was justified.

* * * * *

It was Tuesday afternoon by the time Madam Pomfrey finally let him go. As usual, tedium had well and truly set in a day or so before. There was only so much sleep one person could have, although he was able to concentrate on his homework in relative peace, faithfully ferried up to him by Mike and Maxi, or occasionally Chris. And as grateful as he was for Madam Pomfrey’s care, he was even more grateful when she passed him as fit to return to normal life about half an hour before the end of class for the day. That meant he could quickly gather everything up and be back in the safety of the Hufflepuff common room before anyone knew he was on the move.

He had just finished a long and rather overdue shower when he heard the others come in, talking idly and swapping out the contents of their schoolbags for whatever revision they had planned. He dried off and shaved with his wand before wandering back out to get dressed, startling Ravi, who was still sitting on his bed and fiddling with a set of casting bones from his Divination kit.

“Bloody hell! When did you get out?” he demanded.

Evan smiled, “Madam Pomfrey let me out just before class finished. All right, mate?”

Ravi huffed out a breath, and swept his bones back into their velvet bag, yanking the drawstring tight. “I’m fine, but what about you?”

“Good as new, apparently. What have I missed?”

Ravi made a face. “Not a lot. It’s been a bit awkward, actually. Becky’s still absolutely furious, and she won’t listen to anyone.”

He paused while he digested that news, then decided to seize the nettle. “How’s Michelle?”

“She’s… getting better.” Ravi looked at him steadily for a moment. “You really hurt her, mate,” he added softly. “I know you didn’t mean to, and it’s kinda not your fault, but-”

“I know. I need to talk to her.”

“Do it now, if not sooner,” he suggested.

Evan followed his mate out into the common room to the little gathering of tables that Mike and Chris were occupying, but only Becky was present of the girls, scowling at his approach every step of the way.

“Hi Chris, Mike.”

“Evan, me lad! Where did you spring from?!” Mike demanded, bouncing to his feet and seizing his arm.

“Hi, Evan!” Chris added. “You’re looking better.”

All he got from Becky was a deeper scowl and a growl of, “Piss off, Fielding!”

There was a brief, awkward silence. Evan decided to be the one to break it. “Where’s, uh-”

“The library,” said Mike, coming to his rescue. “They’ll be back later, so they will. Are you joining us now, or what?”

He glanced over at Becky’s disgruntled expression, and sighed. “Maybe I’ll do some catching up on my own, first.”

He found a small table on its own in the far corner, and tried to ignore the noisy group of third-years on the couch behind him. In truth he was already relatively up-to-date, but there was always revision to be done, and with N.E.W.T.s looming ever larger, the pressure was building. The end of Quidditch ought to add a significant chunk of his time back but even that was already being nibbled away with detention and a dozen other little things. _And that’s before things like-_

_Well. _

_It’s been a while since I’ve been out to see the hippogriffs, too, and Nigel and his porlock friends will have completely forgotten me. I must remember to take some more mushrooms…_

He shook his head and tried to focus on the Herbology text at hand.

Later, he looked up at the entrance as a small party bustled in, Maxi and Tammy and Leah and… there, in the middle of them, was Michelle. Their eyes met, and he saw hers widen in surprise, and a flutter in her throat, but even as she took a step towards him, Becky was there to divert her away, almost manhandling her towards the dorms. Michelle went along with her easily enough, but she did look back at him in consternation before stepping through the door, and Evan had to force himself to unclench his teeth and slow his pulse down.

They emerged a few minutes later, having shed their book bags, and again Becky steered her away from him and towards the barrels. Maxi and Tammy followed, looking uncertain what to do, and this time Michelle looked downright cross. He heard a tetchy, “Becky, stop!” as they left the common room, and Michelle yanked her arm out of her blonde friend’s grasp.

Evan forced out a hard breath as the barrels swung shut behind them, and dragged his eyes away to see Chris hovering over him.

“Well, I think that looks like dinner, Evan. Are you coming?” he asked awkwardly, Ravi close behind him.

“No thanks. I think I’ll go up later,” he said quietly.

Ravi gave him a half-stern, half-pleading look. “Evan, come on, you have to-”

“I know. I know, mate, but I’m not going to start a fight with Becky in the Great Hall.”

“She’s being unfair.”

He sighed, “Not entirely, but she’s angry, and I don’t want to fight. Especially up there. You guys go on, all right?”

Ravi looked over his shoulder towards the entrance, but Chris dragged another chair over beside Evan’s.

“You go, Ravi.”

Ravi looked like he was going to protest, but then his expression hardened and he glanced back again. “All right. Catch you later.”

_Don’t start anything_, was on Evan’s lips, but Ravi was already gone. Instead, he looked down at his neglected books, and gave up with a sigh. “So, how’s it going in Potions, Chris?”

They talked for maybe twenty minutes before Ravi stomped back in, scowling heavily, and went straight into the dorms with Mike hurrying after him. _Well, that clearly went well_.

“Shall we go up?” Chris asked.

Evan gave up. _I can’t hide here all night, after all_. “Why not?”

Somehow, they didn’t meet the others coming the other way, but had dinner with Hannah, Susan, Ernie, and Gwion, instead. Hannah was looking rather wild about the eyes with O.W.L.s looming so quickly, and Gwion was gently winding her up while Ernie and Susan tried to hide their own trepidation to talk her down. He could remember the feeling. It wasn’t a lot better the second time around.

After ice-cream for dessert, they wandered back to the Hufflepuff common room, and Evan’s eyes darted around the room to weigh up his options. Michelle was at a large table with Becky and Tammy, and he hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what to do. In the end, he settled for taking an armchair by the window. He could have felt the hostility Becky was radiating towards him from the moon, and wanted to work out if there was a better way to defuse things than just marching straight up to them.

To his surprise, Michelle was the one who got to her feet - and then stopped and looked down sharply at the hand clinging on to her wrist.

“Becky, let go,” she said in a low but uncharacteristically commanding voice.

“You can’t seriously just go crawling back to him like this!” Becky said, her lip curling.

“I’m not crawling anywhere, and I’m telling you. Let. _Go_.”

She gaped at her, then shook her head, “I don’t believe you! I really don’t, after what he did-”

“How about you let me be the judge of that?” Michelle barked peevishly, yanking her arm free.

“_Judge?_” Becky demanded incredulously. “One look from him, and you buckle and give in! Just like you always have with him!”

“Well, maybe because I know more about it than you do!” Michelle said loudly, her hands on her hips. “Have you actually considered that, Rebecca? Just maybe I know more about my life and my boyfriend than you do!”

Heads were turning all around the common room to watch the show, and Evan felt his heart sink. It was turning into the confrontation he’d wanted to avoid. Becky wasn’t going to let it go easily, however.

“Oh, great! So he’s back to _boyfriend _already, is he?” she said, the adjective dripping in disdain as she slumped back in her chair and folded her arms in disgust. “Good luck being his _doormat_ for the rest of your life.”

Michelle threw up a hand and tossed her head in frustration, “Oh, I give up! You’ve done nothing but spit and snarl whenever his name comes up-”

“Yeah, because I watched that prick break your heart like it was nothing!” Becky snarled, leaning forward again. “All because his bloody _ego_ was far more important to him than you were!”

“It was nothing to do with ego, for Merlin’s sake! Why won’t you just _listen?!”_

“Of course it wasn’t. Just like you didn’t spend two days in your room, crying-”

“If you’d been paying attention you’d have noticed I was upset because _I was scared out of my mind for him!_”

“I’m not surprised, because once wasn’t enough for him, was it? Instead we got to see the heroic flying corpse trying to get himself killed a second time, too,” Becky spat sarcastically, making Michelle flinch.

“Don’t you _dare_ throw that in my face! But I think I understand why he did that, too.” She leaned closer, looming over her friend, “You can be as angry as you want with Evan, but you don’t get to be angry on my behalf! This is my life and _my _choice, Becky! _Not_ yours!”

With that, she stepped around her, her face determined and her jaw jutting belligerently. He stood to meet her face to face despite the churning apprehension in his guts, but she simply marched straight up to him and wrapped her arms around him. He swallowed hard, holding her tight, and leaned his head against hers. Her touch was like a balm, and all the tension vanished at the familiar combination of the way her body fit against his, and her scent, and the feel of her hands on his back and her hair against his cheek. A small, timeless moment of perfection later, she drew back a little and gazed up at him through serious, heart-melting brown eyes. He kissed her gently, heedless of the ‘_Aww_’s around them, and her hand wrapped around his, and together, they slipped out of the common room without a word.

* * * * *

Once the barrels swung shut behind them, Michelle had to lean an arm against the wall to steady herself, and let out a rather shaky breath.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his hand squeezing hers in concern.

“I will be.” She sighed, and her voice wavered a little, “I think she means well, but I’m sick of her pushing me around like a child.”

“She’s trying to do what she thinks is right.”

“Stop being reasonable! And as I said, it’s my choice, not hers.” She pulled herself together and set off down the corridor. “C’mon.”

He followed, looking a bit puzzled. “Where are we going?

“Not far.”

It didn't seem right to just barge in, even although she knew it would be deserted. Instead, she knocked lightly and paused before lifting the latch and ducking through the little doorway. It was exactly as she remembered, sparse but pristine, and so all-consumingly quiet. Another thought struck her, and she felt her cheeks heat up._ I’ve just dragged him away from everyone to a private little room with a bed. And I’m not sure if that’s a bad thing or not. Oh dear. Maybe Becky is right about me - but I don’t care._

Evan was looking around with quiet interest, before squeezing into the corner beside the cross on the wall, trying to keep out of the way and looking at her for a cue as to their next move. “This is where you went. Maxi said you disappeared on her.”

“Yeah. I just needed some space,” she said, rather distracted. _There’s only one chair, so should I take it and leave him the bed? He’s taller, maybe he’d be more comfortable sitting there?_

He smiled. “I think she was really starting to panic, from what she said.”

“I didn’t mean to worry anyone, but I needed to just get _away_, to be on my own, and this was the only place I could find.”

He solved her dilemma by sitting on the little bed and scooting backwards until his back rested against the wall, and patted the bed beside him. _Perfect. Comfortable for both of us without being too, uh, suggestive_. She climbed up beside him, the cool stone against her back contrasting with the warmth of his shoulder against hers, and tried to think.

“I’m glad you’re all right.”

“I’m sorry it turned out like that, and I'm sorry that you had to see it.” He sighed, looking down into his lap and fidgeting with his fingers until hers closed over them. “I guess I was rather stupid. The Bludgers are out of play during a penalty. That’s the rules, everyone knows that, so the Beaters are supposed to trap them until the game is live again. Both Bludgers were under control, so… well, as if they were ever going to follow the rules.”

Memories of that horribly-still, blood-soaked figure flashed through her mind. _Deep breaths. Deep breaths_. “Until that happened, I thought you were right. They were all mouth and elbows and barges, just like you’d said. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of that happening during a penalty before.”

“I don’t remember much of what happened next.” He let out a sour, jittery laugh, “Poor Madam Pomfrey! I do remember her trying to do things, but I was on my back and all I could think about was being on my front. Anyway, she tipped a load of healing spells and potions into me, then sat me down while she tried to deal with the injuries everyone else was picking up. Smith was one. Tammy was another, I think.”

“You could see what was going on.”

“Yeah.”

She swallowed, trying to clear the dryness in her throat. “And that’s it, isn’t it? You couldn’t leave your friends.”

“Not when I could do something about it. I know it probably wasn’t the greatest decision, but I just wanted to give them a chance to end it. Slytherin would happily have been out there all day, if they’d had the chance.” He took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. “I knew what the score was. I did know, because I remember trying to work it out. I didn’t really care what it was, just that it pissed me off. And so I grabbed my gear, and off I went.”

Hearing the off-hand way he described it made her spine prickle. _I decided it was the right thing to do, so I stepped into the firing line._ Tentatively, she reached for him, and his arm came around her shoulders, too.

“I hated myself.” Despite her best efforts, she could hear the tremor in her voice. “I knew I could have stopped you, and you even gave me the chance, but I didn’t, and I hated myself when I saw what happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice husky.

“Would you do it again, do you think?”

“The right answer is no, of course. The honest answer? I think it might be yes, and that worries me. I don’t want to put you through anything like that again, Michelle.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face, “I don’t know. Maybe the Sorting Hat put me in the wrong house.”

The idea was so ridiculous to her, she laughed. “Stubborn? Loyal to a fault? That sounds pure Hufflepuff to me.”

He smiled gently, his blue eyes so close. “That sounds like someone I know, too.” He sighed again, “I don’t expect you to just forgive me, but I do want to earn that from you. However I can.”

_Forgiveness, again_. She swallowed down the growing lump in her throat, and tried to explain. “When I came in here afterwards, I did a lot of thinking. A lot of panicking as well, I suppose. And I spoke to the Friar. This is his room, after all. He said a lot of things, I guess, but… in the end, I realised he was right. Do I think you tried to do the right thing, for the right reasons? Yes, I do. I know you well enough by now. Can I forgive you for the way things turned out? Yes, of course I can, because I’m not perfect either. That doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt like hell, and I’m still trying to get over that, but I can’t hold on to that hurt and fear forever. That’s something so _empty_. What do I want? I want you, Evan.”

Her admission hung in the air, naked and vulnerable, until he shook his head in disbelief and said gruffly, “Do you know why I waited so long for you? Why I waited for you to make the first move?”

She couldn’t stop the swoop of fear in the pit of her stomach. “Not entirely. I mean, I wondered, of course.”

“I wanted you to be the one to make the first move, because then I would know that it was what you really wanted. That it wasn’t just you going along with something you weren’t really sure about.”

She gaped at him in disbelief. “You thought it wasn’t what I wanted? Really?”

He closed his eyes briefly. “I wanted to be sure, and I wanted you to say so. Because if you could tell me that, then I’d know that you could also tell me ‘No’. If it wasn’t what you wanted, or you changed your mind, or you decided that it didn’t work, I wanted to know that you could tell me.”

“What about what you wanted, isn’t that important, too?”

“Well, yes, but you’ve always had trouble with confidence and asserting yourself.” He smiled at her, a wry grin that she knew and loved. “This year, you’ve been a lot better at that in lots of ways.”

“So this was some sort of test?” she demanded incredulously.

“No, of course not, but you just stood up to Becky in front of the whole common room and told her off. Would you have done that last year? _Could _you have done that last year?”

“Uh… well, I don’t know. Maybe? She made a big mistake, though.”

His smile faded. “What was that?”

“She tried to force me to choose between you and her. I really didn’t want to, but if that’s what she’s going to make me do, then… then, you know what? I’m going to choose my best friend. I’m going to choose my boyfriend. It’s going to be you, Evan, every time. Even if you’ve made a mistake. I love Becky, but she got that one really wrong.” Her voice wavered, “Oh, she’s going to hate me!”

His free arm came up around her, too, and she needed no second invitation to turn and snuggle into him. “It’ll be all right, ‘Chelle. You guys will work it out. You’ve been friends too long not to.”

“What about you? You and Becky have been friends just as long,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

He sighed. “Becky’s angry because I hurt one of her best friends. And she’s right, I did. How can I be angry at her for that? Is she going to forgive me? Well, I don’t know. I hope so, but I think it’s going to take some time.”

“I think she’s going to find it hard to forgive me for a while, too. I didn't want to do it like that, but she just wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“I was hoping we could talk without the audience, too, I was just trying to figure out how. Maybe sneak off to find Rascal and get him to take you some sort of note.” He gave her an affectionate squeeze that made her heart race, “And then you went and took the direct route, instead.”

She grinned wanly, “Yeah, that’s me, all right. Up front and in your face Michelle, always leaping head-first into things.” She heard a chuff of amusement, and continued. “You were right, earlier. I had to be ready for this, to get a bit more confident in myself.” She pulled away from him so that she could look him in his beautiful, blue eyes, so clear and full of love. “And I think… I think one reason it took me so long to actually do anything was… because you made it so easy. I didn’t have to be brave and take the risk on us, on our friendship, because you were already there. You were always there, always looking out for me, and if I could have that without really being your girlfriend, then maybe that would be enough.” She smiled ruefully, “It wasn’t, of course. It really wasn’t, but I tried very hard to convince myself it was.”

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had, either. For anything.” He shook his head, “Merlin, there I was, hoping this year would be quiet and peaceful, and all I’d have to worry about was N.E.W.T.s and telling you how I felt without wrecking things.”

She had to smile. “Me, too. And instead, it’s been anything but.”

“But we’ve survived it, haven’t we? So far, anyway.”

“Together.” She stretched up and kissed him, the quiet, soaring euphoria taking wing in her chest once more.

“Together.”


	29. Gryffindor v Ravenclaw

With three weeks until their exams, pressure in the senior classes was intense. The Ravenclaws were almost totally unapproachable, locked in some level of Revision Zen far beyond panic, and even the Gryffindors’ bluff optimism was looking distinctly forced. Michelle and the rest of the Hufflepuffs were a little more relaxed about things, but it was hard not to feel overwhelmed. Their classroom sessions had become pure revision, with the teachers making rounds to offer tips, advice, and direction. Umbridge was the exception, although she did take time out from their usual, tedious reading to emphasise how their results would reflect on her and that she would be… _disappointed_… in anyone who failed to achieve a good pass. This hubris was much mocked outside of class, even if the mockery contained more than a hint of despair. Passing just didn’t seem possible - or even desirable, if Umbridge got any credit out of it - and it was easy to resent the way their education had suffered for the sake of some Ministry megalomaniac’s ego.

Michelle did make sure to take regular breaks from the intense studying to take advantage of the increasingly pleasant weather with Evan. They would often steal an hour after class to take a stroll around the grounds, stopping under their favourite willow by the lake for some alone time. Their friends trailed protectively after them at a discreet distance, sometimes with a bit of grumbling, but one benefit of imminent exams was that the Slytherins were every bit as caught up in it as the rest of them, and the hassle and bullying that had been rife all term had tailed off. Warrington was keeping his head down after the Quidditch match, and Michelle was glad for it, but they couldn’t afford to drop their guard. She was surprised to be stopped in the corridors one afternoon by a little group of third-years. It took her a moment to recognise Carrie Greenhalgh with her hair cropped above her collar and fading scars still showing on her face, but the younger girl had thanked her profusely for stepping in. It was thrilling and horribly embarrassing to be someone’s hero, especially when she felt not in the slightest heroic for what she’d done.

Alone with Evan, there was time to talk, and snuggle, and kiss, and maybe even let her hands wander a little. They were both careful not to get too carried away, for their own sakes as well as propriety, but at the same time, by Merlin, it was hard to stop. One look at him, his lips swollen by her kisses, his hair tousled, the feeling of his hands on her and hers on him, and the spark of raw _desire _sharpening his blue eyes, and the urge to just let go and let what would happen, happen, was almost overwhelming. And later, in bed at night, all alone and on the verge of sleep, she _ached _for him, and wondered…

She was also conscious of how fast things were progressing between them. Yes, it was Evan, and all that entailed, but they’d only really been together for a few weeks, and there had already been one major fight and the fallout from Quidditch to deal with. It was frighteningly easy to slip straight back into their quickly-blossoming romance as if they had never happened, like things were normal, but she knew that normal was something they were yet to find. There had been too much change, too much upheaval, for the newness to wear off, let alone for a steady and stable relationship to develop. They were finding their way easily enough, but even now, it was under the blow-torch pressure of looming exams, and that wasn’t exactly normal, either.

As for what may happen after school, she didn’t like to think about it. With his usual determination, he had somehow resolutely put it to the side until he could talk it through with his mother, but it was clear to her that he must be strongly considering whether emigrating was the right thing to do. Similarly, Rachael was not someone to upend her life on a whim, and no-one could blame her for moving out of danger if the wizarding world’s worst fears about You-Know-Who came to pass. _Is it the right thing for me, too? Would Evan even consider taking me? Am I crazy to think of going with him after such a short time together? And would I, could I? So far away from everything and everyone I know? I… don’t know. And I think it’s a good thing that I wouldn’t just jump in with him like that, without second thoughts and looking backwards. But if things change here, if the worst does happen, then what? _There were no easy answers, but perhaps Evan’s calm nature came from his steady pragmatism. _It may not happen, it’s in the future, and I can’t influence it, so for now I will focus on the things I can, and then try to plan for the things I can’t. Yeah. Easy, right?_

If her relationship with Evan was blooming, then her friendship with Becky was still on rocky ground. Her erstwhile friend wasn’t exactly rude, but very standoffish and only reluctantly polite when they spoke, which was depressingly seldom. The distance between her and one of her best friends hurt, but she refused to feel ashamed of her choices or her boyfriend. Becky still wasn’t talking to him, either, and would often simply leave their group of friends if he was present. Evan didn’t say anything, but she could feel his regret, and also the frustration of her other friends at this unwelcome change to their well-established dynamic. _Well, she’s just going to have to get used to it, because I’m not changing my mind about him. Not now, not ever._

That stubbornly-resolute thought bothered her, too. Logically, she knew it was far, far too soon to be thinking of long-term, and especially in terms of ‘forever’, but it was Evan. It was _Evan_, and he was so much a part of her life that it was nearly impossible to imagine that he wouldn’t be there. And yet, that was a very real possibility. If he were to leave, if he really did move overseas, then what? She had to smother her urge to have it out with him, to extract some sort of reassurance that of course he would always be there. That wouldn’t be fair on him, and she knew that his decisions would not be made lightly. _First, he needs to talk to Rachael - but then we need to talk, too. And if I love him, how can I hold him back if he thinks it’s the right thing to do?_ Those terrifying thoughts raced around and around in her head in the quiet of the night, endlessly chasing their own tails even into her dreams, until she was desperate for a distraction, be it friends, or schoolwork, or Evan himself.

The one remaining major distraction for the year was the final Quidditch game of the season between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. For once, only the Slytherins were out of contention for the Quidditch Cup, and its destination rested on the outcome of the last game. Ravenclaw only required 190 points, or four goals and the Snitch, to equal Hufflepuff’s total - and thereby win on head-to-head - while the Gryffindors needed 230 points, or eight goals and the Snitch, to move ahead. Given the sad state of the Gryffindor team aside from their Chasers, the Ravenclaws were generally agreed to be in the box seat, but there were no guarantees in Quidditch, and the mathematical permutations were discussed endlessly while the Hufflepuffs hoped desperately for a short game that would end things in their favour.

She and Evan ran into Cho one evening in the Great Hall after dinner, and they lingered while the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams strolled out into the Entrance Hall, exchanging good-natured insults. Cho, of course, was looking impossibly glamorous and beautiful, with her long, glossy black hair shimmering in the candle-light, and it was hard not to feel a little plain and ordinary in comparison, but her smile was genuine and friendly, and she greeted them with the quiet charm that Michelle remembered from when she was with Cedric.

“Can I at least persuade the two of you to cheer for Ravenclaw?” she asked, with a trace of a laugh.

Evan grinned, and squeezed Michelle’s hand. “If you’re going to bag that Snitch in the first minute or two, then I’ll be screaming my lungs out for you.”

“Me, too. No more than three goals, though, please,” Michelle reminded her, with a smile.

Cho laughed, “How very mathematical! I think both teams will be hoping for a long game, but who knows what will happen.”

“We can always hope,” said Evan.

“And why shouldn’t you?” Cho’s smile faded. “It must feel so strange for you, especially now. I mean, I have a feeling people will talk about your last game for years.”

He shrugged, “I don’t want to be talked about, and I don’t think it really matters. The Cup, though. It’d be a really nice way to round everything off.”

“I know.”

There was an odd note in her voice, and Evan and Michelle exchanged a glance before Evan nodded to the doors. “C’mon,” Michelle added, very quietly, and Cho followed. Suddenly, she didn’t look like the pretty girl to be envied, she simply looked lost and tired and worn out.

Evan led them outside into the glorious sunset and across the grounds. They had no particular destination, just away from everyone else and into the quiet while the lights of Hogwarts blazed behind them. They let Cho set the pace, and she stopped at the top of the path before the lawns sloped away to the greenhouses and took slow, deep breaths while Evan and Michelle waited quietly, hand in hand until Michelle stepped closer to Evan’s side and his arm slid around her to rest his hand on her waist.

“Hey. Are you all right?” he asked cautiously.

Cho took another deep breath and puffed it out sharply, looking out towards the stadium. “Yeah. I’ll be all right.” She swallowed, “Is it shallow of me to care so much about some stupid cup? I just want something I can take away from this year and say, see? I achieved something real. I came back, and I made a difference, and it counted.”

“I think that’s something everyone wants to feel,” Michelle said softly.

“I want to win. Damn it, I want to win!” she added fiercely, her dark eyes flashing, and Michelle felt a pang. This was the quiet, clever, passionate girl that Cedric had fallen for, fierce and driven. “I want to see my name on that cup and k-know that _something _went right, this year.” Her voice hitched as she spoke, and it wobbled as she finished, “I want to win for Cedric, to know that I did something that would make him proud.”

“He’d have been proud of you anyway,” Evan murmured hoarsely. “You don’t need any badge or cup or award for that.”

She wiped her eyes roughly with the palms of her hands. “He probably would, wouldn’t he? Oh, I don’t know how you guys have managed, this year. I don’t think I was ready to come back here.”

Evan and Michelle exchanged another look. _What do we do now?_ “Have you talked to anyone about this, about how you’re feeling?” Evan tried. “Your parents, maybe?”

She let out a short, rather bitter, laugh, “My parents told me it was a tragedy but I shouldn’t be so hung up on _some boy_. That I needed to focus on preparing for N.E.W.T.s next year. So I’ve done my best, and I’ve tried to live a normal life, but everything just seems to end up going _wrong_.” She sniffed, “Some of that’s my fault, too. I've been an absolutely awful friend, sometimes, and they must be sick of hearing me, by now.”

_She needs help_, said his expression.

_Yeah, I know, but what can we do?_

His eyebrows tilted slightly. _I’m open to ideas._

Michelle tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Um… this is going to sound a bit weird, but have you thought about talking to the Friar? He’s a really good listener.”

“Yeah, Evan suggested him a while back,” she said reluctantly, twisting a long strand of her hair between her fingers. “I don’t know, he’s your ghost, and… I don’t know.”

“Not far from Professor Sprout’s office is a little door,” Michelle said, kindly but firmly. “It’s not locked. There’s a room in there, and it’s very quiet and peaceful. It’s a great place to be by yourself and think. If you want to speak to him, just call for him. He’ll come to anyone that needs help.”

“Maybe I’ll… well, I suppose it can’t hurt.” Cho took a deep breath and summoned a smile. “Thank you. And you’ve probably heard it from everyone by now, but I’m glad you two are finally together.”

Butterflies. She still felt them whenever someone reminded her, and she couldn’t resist a glance up at her boyfriend, even as she felt him squeeze her waist, and knew her grin was probably every bit as goofy as his, if not worse.

“You know, Ced always said that the problem with you two was that you were already so in love without knowing it, you couldn’t work out how to start the ‘falling in love’ part that everyone expects.”

Michelle dragged her eyes away from his to see Cho watching their antics wistfully. Evan looked a bit puzzled at her words, but Michelle laughed. “I think I know what he meant. Do you think we’ve caught up, now, in the ‘falling in love’ stakes?”

“It certainly looks like it, and not before time. Anyway, I’m going to head back inside. Thanks for everything, you two.”

“Any time,” said Evan.

Michelle slipped away from his side. “Um, Cho?” She stepped forward and gave the other girl a hug. Cho froze for a second in surprise, then hugged her back strongly for a long moment. “We want to help. If you need anything, or want to talk, just find us, yeah? We’ll work something out.”

“Thank you.” She grinned, “For now, I’ll leave you to work on that falling in love part, again. G’night.”

Michelle was drawn back to Evan’s side to watch Cho return to the castle, drawing some of the contact she craved. She looked up at him with a wide, cheeky grin, “How are we doing? Are you falling in love with me, yet?”

“I’m not sure. I’d better check.” His hands found her waist, and soft lips captured hers. “We wouldn’t want to get this wrong, would we?” he murmured, nibbling on her earlobe and making her shudder, and she found herself arching her body into his, her head turning to expose her throat as he kissed his way along her jaw.

“Definitely not,” she managed, twisting to find his lips again while one of her hands cupped his butt. “So, is it working?” she gasped, her head reeling and his breath hot on her cheek.

She could already feel the answer, but he muttered a gruff reply anyway. “Seems to be. Does this mean we can go back inside, now?”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me!”

Revision could wait.

* * * * *

The day of the final Quidditch game arrived at last, bringing weeks of discussion and tension to a climax. Evan managed to sleep all right the night before, but he woke to find Mike already gone. Normally, he could go for a run to blow off some steam, but that seemed like an unnecessary risk. The Slytherins had been keeping their heads down, but that was no reason to offer them an easy target. Instead, he took his time showering and getting dressed, and then wandered out into the common room to wait for the highlight of his day.

It turned out that she was already there, her face scrubbed but still half-asleep, wearing yesterday’s uniform thrown on instead of her pyjamas. The common room was fairly quiet, so it was a chance to slide into the seat next to her on the couch and kiss her good morning, rather thoroughly, and let her snuggle close with her head on his shoulder. Even without speaking, he could sit there and just soak in that humbling feeling of love and wonder that she would share her life and herself with him so freely.

Rumbling stomachs drove them upstairs with Susan, Hannah, and Justin, for a long and unhurried breakfast. Tammy, Mike, and Chris were already there, and he set about a fry-up and watched a cup of tea slowly bring Michelle to life. Across the hall, the opposing Quidditch teams filed in as a group, their faces variously tense and focused and relaxed - and Ron Weasley looked like he was going to puke - but rather than go and talk to them like Tammy and Mike, they opted for another cup of tea and splitting someone’s discarded _Daily Prophet _between them, reading little snippets of whatever caught their interest to each other.

Breakfast over with, they retreated to the common room to wait it out. Michelle vanished into her dorm to wash up properly, and so Evan joined the loose gaggle forming around Ravi and Owen Summerby. Smith burst in at one point, whey-faced and sweating, to suggest that they should all wear their Quidditch uniforms to watch the game, and he was roundly laughed at, then ignored. He stormed off to sulk by himself in the corner, poring over a dog-eared notebook of his notes on the other teams. Meanwhile, the rest of the team coalesced with Evan and Owen over the next half-hour to form a mildly anxious huddle, trying not to obsess about potential outcomes while the hours slowly ticked away.

“Ya feelin’ hopeful, mate?” Mike asked.

“I hate to say it, but I can’t see past the Ravens, today,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Yeah, I know what ya mean. Still - it’s the hope that kills ya, isn’t it?”

“Something like that.” He glanced over at the clock for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. “I suppose we ought to get going.”

“Reckon you’re right.”

Evan found himself almost relieved at the excuse to look for Michelle. Despite the long, yellow-and-black scarf draped loosely across her shoulders, she was wearing just a blouse and skirt in deference to the warm, sunny morning outside, and was laughing at some story or other Leah was telling, her pretty, dark eyes sparkling. He swallowed. _Merlin, she’s so beautiful_. As if she could tell he was watching, she glanced over at him, then made her excuses to the others and came over to join him.

“Hi! Are you ready?” she asked brightly, one eyebrow cocked in questioning.

He shivered and tried to focus, offering his arm. She hooked her arm through his, and they joined the stream heading out of the common room and up into the castle.

“I guess so. Will you be all right in just that?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” Her grin took on an impish look that he was learning to treasure. “And if I do get cold, we may just be forced to huddle together for warmth.”

“Oh no. How awful,” he said drily, making her giggle.

“I know! Whatever shall we do?”

He arched an eyebrow, “Would you like a few suggestions?”

She leaned closer and whispered in a cute little growl that sent a shiver of anticipation through him, “Oh, I have _plenty_ of my own already!”

“Oi! Get a room or get a move on!”

“_Mike!_” Maxi exclaimed indignantly, whacking him on the arm.

“As if you haven’t been twice as bad, and for years, too!” Ravi added, through gales of laughter.

“Like hell we have!” Mike snorted, to much disbelief from his housemates. Evan was happy to let them argue and just drift along with Michelle, keeping out of it. He felt a nudge on his hip, and looked over to see a playful smile on her face, and felt his heart melt all over again. Inadequate as it was, he squeezed her arm. _Love you, too!_

Outside, the sky was an unbroken bowl of blue and the winds were light and fitful, perfect Quidditch weather - if they were playing, anyway. Instead, there was nothing he could do except join the hoards flooding across the lawn towards the stadium and revel in the warm, sunny day, and the feeling of Michelle’s hand in his. There was quite a queue for the stairs up to the Hufflepuff stands, and while they were waiting he felt a gentle tug on his hand. He looked over to see Chris fidgeting uncomfortably and standing off to one side.

“Chris, are you going to meet up with Trish?” Michelle asked gently.

Their big friend shrugged sheepishly. “I kind of feel like I shouldn’t, but it’s only fair.”

Evan grinned, “Go on, mate, just don’t lose track of the score.”

“Yeah, no more than-” Maxi butted in, before Chris cut her off.

“_I know!”_ he wailed plaintively, throwing up his hands in despair. “I know, Maxi, _please_! I’ll probably be reciting it in my sleep, the way you lot’ve been going on!”

People around them laughed, but Maxi retorted, “We’ve not been that bad!”

“You have! Believe me, you have!” He shook his head, and sighed. “Uh, sorry. Anyway, I’d better just, um…” With that, he sidled away, circling over towards the Gryffindor stands.

Maxi snorted loudly, crossing her arms and watching him go. “We really need to have a word with that boy about his priorities.”

“I reckon he’s got the right idea,” Tammy said over her shoulder, as they began the climb towards their seats. “If we win, he gets a congratulatory snog from his girlfriend. If they win, he gets a celebratory snog from his girlfriend.”

“And if the Ravenclaws win?” Ravi asked, chuckling.

“I guess he gets a commiseratory snog. See? The big lug can’t lose!”

* * * * *

They found their usual, vertiginous, spot down at the front rail, and Michelle felt a sick flutter of fear in remembrance of her last time in those seats. She took a deep breath and gave the hand in hers a reassuring squeeze - it was a welcome reminder of how things had turned out in the end and that she didn’t need to be afraid. The Quidditch team sat together as a group, as always, with the exception of Smith, who took his place high at the back of the stand, surrounded by his notebooks and chewing his fingernails down to stumps already. She sat next to Evan, where she could unobtrusively lean against his shoulder, but she couldn’t help notice Becky move to sit on the far side from them. _OK, fine, then_.

As ever, she found it strangely fascinating to watch Evan - to watch _the team_ \- come to life as they reached Quaffle-up. Shoulders straightened, they leaned forward in their seats, their eyes keenly sharpened on the scene below them as the teams flew out and loosened up. The intensity of their focus heightened her own anticipation - and, she was embarrassed to admit, it was more than a little arousing, because when they were alone Evan looked at _her_ with that same intensity, now, too. It was quite a thrill to realise that she was one of the things he was truly passionate about.

“_Hello and welcome! This is it, the big one, the one we’ve all been waiting for that will determine the destination of this year’s Quidditch Cup! Hufflepuff are in the lead going into this final game, but that advantage is precarious, especially with the quality of the two sides on show today.”_

She thought Lee’s introductory patter was rather forced, especially when talking up Gryffindor’s chances. Their Chasers were as strong a unit as any, but the Ravenclaws were their equal, they had better Beaters, and, well, they didn’t have Ron Weasley at the back. Ron’s sister was light and nimble on a broom, but Cho was an experienced Seeker and definitely no slouch as a flyer, either.

A huge roar greeted Madam Hooch’s shrill whistle, and the Ravenclaws immediately set about stamping their credentials on the game. Roger Davies tipped the Quaffle away from Angelina Johnson, then regathered and rolled past her attempted block and shot straight towards the Gryffindor end, shimmying past Katie Bell before a superb dummy and pirouette took him away from Alicia Spinnet, too, while Jason Samuels and Megan Beckton cut up any attempted pursuit through their command of the Bludgers. Lee’s commentary was reaching the point of anguish already as Roger bore down on the red-headed rabbit-in-the-headlights, and it was reflected in the tensely-barked urgings all around her.

“Come on… come on, _one of you!_”

“Get a block in, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Too bloody easy!”

“Left, Ron, left, left, left… ah, sod it!”

The Hufflepuffs swore even louder than Lee Jordan as Roger left Ron flailing ineffectually and dumped the Quaffle through the left-hand hoop, but even combined with the Gryffindors’ groans of despair they were outdone by the wildly-cheering Ravenclaw stand. It wasn’t long before the Slytherins started to make themselves known in typical fashion, too.

“_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

“_He cannot block a single ring,”_

“For Merlin’s sake, not again,” Tammy growled angrily. “Bunch of wankers!”

“Ah, he’s not exactly proving ‘em wrong, though, is he?” Mike pointed out. “I think he was our best player when we played ‘em.”

“Why do they keep wheeling him out there?” Michelle asked Evan. “I mean, surely they can find someone else? Even if they aren’t great, it’s not like they could do that much worse.”

“Well, from what the twins used to say, he’s actually quite good when there’s no one watching. He just can’t get past the nerves. It’s hard as hell when things aren’t going your way and you can feel all the eyes on you, out there.”

“Spoken from experience?”

He grinned, “Of course! And even if everything does go well, you’re always bricking it for the first few games, anyway! Isn’t that right, Owen?”

Owen Summerby dragged his eyes away from the game and made a rude gesture, making them all laugh.

“I know _I_ was, and I didn’t even play!” Rafa admitted from behind her.

She turned in her seat to smile at him. “I’m sure you would have been fine.”

“I’m not!”

Angelina Johnson was doing her best to take on the entire Ravenclaw team single-handed, driving her Chasers forward whenever possible. Kirke and Sloper were improved from their disastrous last outing against Hufflepuff, but Jason and Megan were clearly streets ahead of them, and dominated much of the Bludger play while the two Seekers prowled high above it all, jockeying for position. A perfectly-aimed Bludger from Megan forced Angelina to drop Katie’s pass, and Helen Chambers pounced gleefully on the loose Quaffle to send Bradley racing away.

“Argh, come on, for Merlin’s sake, Ron!”

“Pull this one out, come on-”

This time, Ron tracked right, then cut hard to his left, one big mitt stretching out… and punching the ball away. There was a momentary intake of breath all around the stadium, and the Gryffindor section erupted.

“Bloody hell, that was actually a pretty decent save,” Maxi admitted over the racket.

“We’ll take it!” Tammy yelled happily. “Come on, Angie, get them bloody sorted!”

It was a bit sad that even his own team seemed stunned by Ron’s save, but Michelle could see how it heartened them. A few minutes later, Katie and Alicia put a very nice move together to slide the Quaffle past the Ravenclaw Keeper, Grant Page, but it came back off the right-hand hoop and they couldn’t quite force it in. Angelina managed to clean up and keep possession, but the Gryffindors had to back-track under the intense pressure of the defending Chasers. The game was on in earnest, and she couldn’t help but notice that her friends were entirely immersed, throwing every Quaffle and hitting every Bludger themselves from their seats.

“_Don’t dodge, Sloper, that’s what they give you a bloody bat for, you pillock!_” bawled a familiar voice, and Michelle couldn’t resist a smile. Becky might have the hump with them right now, but there was never any doubting that she was a proud Hufflepuff to the tips of her toes.

If there was any thought that Ron’s save had been a fluke, the block he made a minute later to deny Helen Chambers was even better, and Alicia Spinnet streaked the length of the pitch to score herself off the back of it. Suddenly, the scores were level, and the tension ratcheted even higher in the stands. The Slytherins’ hateful chorus was faltering, too, while the other three stands roared themselves hoarse.

“Don’t tell me the lad’s actually figured it out?” Mike demanded, having to shout to be heard.

Evan didn’t take his eyes off the play below, but replied, “It sure as hell looks like it. I think we’ve got a game on our hands, now!”

The game became a wild, Chaser-driven melee. The Ravenclaws were still backed up with a dominant Beater unit, and flew with more precise and organised finesse, but the Gryffindor Chasers flew with absolute ferocity and outstanding courage. They added another two goals past a rather rattled-looking Grant Page before the Ravenclaws adjusted and, despite some more fine saves from Ron Weasley, Roger Davies and Carl Bradley dragged them level again. A fourth Ravenclaw goal, Roger again, was met with a mighty groan from the Hufflepuff stands.

“That’s it for one of them,” Evan yelled over the din. “Now we’re going to need a favour.”

“Inevitable, I suppose,” Maxi bellowed. “C’mon, Ginny, get that damn Snitch!”

Ginny, however, was obviously well-aware of the mathematics of the situation, and simply flew a tight, spoiling pattern that Cho couldn’t quite shake off. Every time she tried to find clear air and build up momentum, Ginny was there, hassling and harrying.

“She’s coming bloody close to giving fouls away, but she’s staying just on the right side of the line,” Evan observed to Michelle.

“How long can she keep doing that?”

He made a face. “Probably long enough to suit Gryffindor, if Cho can’t get away from her. Seekers can usually get away with murder, anyway.”

While their Keeper was reborn and the Chasers were flinging themselves into every scrimmage and challenge with reckless abandon, the Gryffindor Beaters were still struggling to gain meaningful command of the Bludgers. They were starting to take cues from their Chasers in their approach and swung with more enthusiasm than accuracy, but even a blind niffler finds a knut, and one of Andy Kirke’s powerful blows drove a Bludger into a crossover between Helen Chambers and Roger Davies. Helen dodged just in time but Roger was blindsided and the heavy ball crunched into his throwing arm and spun him nearly upside down. A huge, collective intake of breath echoed around the stadium while Roger wobbled away, the Quaffle falling free, and Helen and Carl frantically signalled for an injury time-out.

“The jammy bastards!” Mike howled in disgust. “Might well have bust his arm, too!”

“If it hasn’t, it probably feels like it has,” Tammy agreed. “Either way, he’s going to need some running repairs, and it’s going to slow him down.”

Far below, Madam Pomfrey had emerged to tend to the Ravenclaw Captain, and while he was able to continue a few minutes later, it was clear that he was struggling to grip or move freely. Scenting blood, Alicia added two more goals for the Gryffindors, cranking the tension in the Hufflepuff stands even higher and bringing the score to 50-40 in their favour. Trying to adjust, the Ravenclaws changed to the Appleby Broad Arrow, but while it created a good chance for Helen that Ron was able to block, it also invited the Gryffindors on to them.

If the players were feeling the pace out on the pitch, so were the spectators in the stands. Voices were coarsening to parched hoarseness, hands were numbing, and their backs and shoulders and long muscles ached from the continual, rigid clench. Angelina scored again before Roger managed a neat one-two with Helen to catch up, 60-50, but the Gryffindors had the bit between their teeth and over the next twenty minutes, managed to keep their noses in front. The seventh Gryffindor goal brought the Hufflepuffs to an exquisite pitch of agony and desperation, only for Roger to fluff a simple catch, Megan to miscue a Bludger that might have rescued the situation, and the Quaffle to evade Grant Page’s fingertips by a hairsbreadth and skim through off the hoop.

The Hufflepuff team, and many of their housemates, collapsed back in their seats like a burst balloon. There was silence throughout the stand for a long moment while the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw stands roared on their teams, but it was the looks on faces that got to Michelle. Evan looked absolutely crestfallen and, feeling completely inadequate, she squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek. He shook his head and swore under his breath, then roused himself to summon a kind, if rather sick-looking, smile for her, which only made her stomach clench even more. Around them, her friends looked dejected, despondent, and depressed, but pulled themselves together to support each other with hugs and handshakes and resolute, if resigned, expressions. They had completely lost track of the game still raging on in front of them, and she noticed that there were even a few people up the back already leaving. Smith was still on his own, his notes and books and other paraphernalia cast down all around him while he sat with his head in his hands.

In the end, Gryffindor won it. Perhaps it was inevitable, with the luck and momentum on their side, but Ginny’s hand closed on the Snitch a heartbeat before Cho’s, and just like that, the season was over. Lee Jordan was almost in hysterics over the microphone while the Gryffindor team hurled themselves into one big, heaving, jumping, delirious pile, and it was impossible not to think, _It could have been us. It could have been my friends celebrating, after all that time and effort and blood and sweat. They deserve it, too, and to miss out by so little when they’ll never get another chance seems so unfair._

She was surprised to find herself swallowing back a lump in her throat for them. Down on the pitch, in a forgotten huddle at halfway, the Ravenclaw team trudged morosely off. Michelle could see Cho’s shoulders shaking, and she hurled her broom away as she walked up the tunnel. _Poor Cho! It would have meant so much to her, too! To miss out by a hand-stretch, to be within touching distance. A bit like our team, only closer. She must feel so awful._

The stand was rapidly emptying around them, and she could see jubilant Gryffindors pouring onto the pitch to celebrate with their team. Evan was watching them, his jaw clenched and his expression carefully neutral, before he let out a quiet sigh and got to his feet.

“Come on, everyone. I suppose we ought to go and do the decent thing.”

* * * * *

_I shouldn’t be so disappointed, it’s only a game, after all_. No matter how much Evan tried to remind himself of that on the way down to the pitch, the crushing, leaden disappointment in his stomach didn’t shift. His team-mates trailed after him, and it hurt to see that they were hurting, too. There was no sign of Smith, but poor Owen looked like he wanted to dig a hole and pull it in on himself, and while Tammy’s jaw jutted as defiantly as always, he thought he noticed a tremor from time to time. Mike had Maxi, of course, and vice versa, and there was a gentle hand warm in his that reminded him that the truly important thing was still right there by his side.

He stopped at the entrance to the tunnel onto the pitch and murmured, “Thanks. You don’t have to come with us for this bit if you don’t want.”

She smiled at him sympathetically. “No, it’s fine. So long as you want me.”

“Always.”

The pitch was crowded with ecstatic Gryffindors, but there was a ripple of realisation, and to their credit, they made way and formed a lane for the Hufflepuffs. Angelina was waiting for them, her tear-streaked face alight with utter exhilaration, and she took in his slightly hoarse congratulations before throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you so much! You guys have been brilliant, this year, too.”

There didn’t really seem to be a meaningful way to reply to that, but Angelina was already moving on to Tammy behind him. Katie and Alicia were next, and equally emotional, then the stunned forms of Jack Sloper and Andy Kirke, who shook his hand as if they couldn’t quite believe what had happened, and finally the Weasleys, arm in arm and absolutely gleeful.

His duty done, all he wanted to do was to get off the pitch and get away and forget Quidditch had even been invented, but he waited with Michelle while the rest of the team shook hands and congratulated their counterparts. Then, as a group once more, it was time to leave the Gryffindors to celebrate. As they made their way back towards the tunnel, the Gryffindors sent up three cheers for them, and the lump in his throat quadrupled in size.

It was a relief to step out of the tunnel and suck in a deep breath, out of the stadium that had felt suffocating despite its vastness. Michelle was still by his side, and a glance over his shoulder showed the team following along behind, so he forced himself to keep a steady pace, circling around to wait outside the changing rooms. Tammy sat on the grass to wait, and Maxi flopped down beside her, lying with her back flat on the ground and her arms outstretched. Mike stood beside her, talking quietly to Gwion, while Owen stood a short distance away, his chin resting on his chest and looking thoroughly miserable. He exchanged a look with Michelle, and walked over to him.

“You all right, Owen?” he asked, very quietly. “Chin up, mate.”

Owen puffed out a sharp breath and looked away. “Yeah, I s’pose,” he muttered. After a moment, he shook his head in disgust. “I should have got that bloody Snitch against Gryffindor. I was-”

“Hey, that’s enough!” Evan said sharply. “You’ve got nothing to feel sorry for, all right? You stepped into the biggest pair of shoes in the side this year, and you’ve been bloody good for us. Don’t get caught up in maybes, we can all do that and it doesn’t help anything.” He gave him a sympathetic smile and added in a gentler voice, “Don’t forget, the only reason we had a chance today was your catch against Slytherin. And that was an excellent piece of Seeking that you can be damn proud of, OK?”

Owen took a deep breath and didn’t answer, but Evan thought he looked marginally happier. He clapped him on the shoulder and left him to his thoughts.

“Do you think they’ll be long?” Michelle asked, slipping her arm around him. “If they’re feeling anything like you guys, they may just not want to come out.”

“I hope not.” He summoned a small smile, “And I have to admit, I really just want to get this over with.”

“Do you want to do anything after? We could go down by the lake, it’s a gorgeous day.”

“Yeah, let’s do that. Maybe we can talk the house-elves into giving us lunch to take, as well.”

They talked quietly for a few minutes until the door in the stadium wall clicked open and Roger sauntered out with Helen Chambers close behind, drawing everyone’s attention. Maxi sat up and let Mike pull her to her feet.

Roger looked around the waiting Hufflepuffs and smiled wryly. “I should have known you’d be here. I’m afraid you’ve missed the others, they were straight in and out and back to the castle. No one particularly felt like hanging around.”

“Oh well, I guess we’ll see them later,” said Evan, stepping forward. “Well played, Roger, it’s been a good battle this year.”

Roger grinned a bit more genuinely, and shook his hand. “Even if you did save too many of my best shots, damn you! Likewise, it’s been great. Not just this year, but all through. It’s always a good game against Hufflepuff.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cos you buggers usually win,” Maxi said acidly, giving him a quick hug and a slap on the back.

“There is that, a minor consideration,” Roger admitted, making them all chuckle.

“Well played, Helen!” Evan said, giving the pretty Chaser a hug.

She smiled impishly, “Thanks, Evan - even if I did do my best to do you in, this year!”

“So did a few others, unfortunately.”

She laughed, and let him go. “I’m just glad you’re all right in the end. You guys were really unlucky at the wrong times, this year.”

He shrugged, “We had our luck, but it just wasn’t quite enough. That’s the way it goes, I suppose.”

Roger glanced back at him in the midst of shaking Gwion’s hand. “It’s a funny thing, luck. You know, right until the very last second, we could’ve won the bloody lot, and instead we ended up dead last by a mile. What a caution and analogy for life.”

“Merlin, that’s a depressing outlook, Roger!” said Tammy, with a laugh.

“It’s just a bit of the old Davies maudlin,” he said expansively, his dark eyes twinkling. “We do like a good sulk now and then if we lose. Don’t let it get you down, Tam.”

“I won’t, I’m too busy trying to tell myself that it’s only a game,” she said, happily accepting a hug from him and kissing his cheek.

Roger laughed, “This is where you get all Hufflepuff and tell me it’s not about winning but the friends you make along the way, isn’t it?”

“Is it, bollocks!” Maxi snorted, to general laughter.

“Although they are a worthwhile bonus,” Owen chipped in, with a wan smile.

Tammy mussed his hair affectionately. “Most of the time, anyway.”

They ambled back to the castle together, none of them in any hurry. Michelle was talking animatedly with Helen and Tammy, but Evan was content to just drift along by himself on the edge of the group and let the hot sun warm his face while the breeze that had stiffened just enough to be refreshing ruffled his hair. Behind them, they could hear the occasional burst of noise from the stadium - including, much to his confusion, that damn song, slowly growing louder and more jubilant. He frowned a little and listened more carefully, and then began to laugh when he caught the words.

_He didn’t let the Quaffle in,_

_Weasley is our King!_

_Perfect! Just perfect! The Slytherins are going to absolutely puke when they hear that, and it serves them right, too! Good on you, Ron, ram it right back down their throats!_

He and Michelle stopped in the Entrance Hall, and he couldn’t resist slipping an arm around her. Mike, Roger, and Tammy looked back at them enquiringly, and he explained. “It’s a nice day, so we’re going to take our lunch outside.” Mike and Tammy exchanged dubious looks, but before they could speak, he continued, “We’ll be fine. Go on, guys, and we’ll see you later.”

They grabbed a few sandwiches and a bottle of pumpkin juice from the kitchens, and Michelle conjured a rather neat picnic hamper to carry it all. A few other couples and groups of friends were dotted about here and there on the lawn, just talking in the sun or eating their own picnics, but they wandered slowly down to the lake and stepped under the fringe of their willow tree down by the shore. Michelle dusted off the top of the old log by the willow’s trunk while Evan cast a cushioning charm on it, and they sat down to delve into their hamper.

“Egg and cress, or cheese and tomato?”

“Either, I don’t mind. Thanks.”

They munched quietly on their sandwiches, the fingers of her free hand loosely twined with his. Eating left-handed was a small price to pay. _Calm. Quiet. Warm. Michelle. Perfection_. Afterwards, they sprawled out on the grass together in the lazy warmth of the afternoon, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, while he stroked her hair idly and tried not to drift off to sleep, with the achingly-familiar scent of jasmine and orange in his nostrils.

“I was really hoping you guys were going to win the Cup, this morning. You all looked so disappointed,” she murmured.

“It was always a bit of a long shot, but…, well, like Mike said, it’s the hope that gets you. We were damn close, just not quite close enough in the end, and of course everyone’s disappointed. We’ll get over it.”

“It was your last chance, too. Your last year of Quidditch. I know you’re going to miss it.”

“Yes and no.” He heard a quiet hmph of query, and tried to explain. “Let me put it this way - am I going to miss the training and the cold and the rain? Am I going to miss the bruises and the Bludgers and the bloody stupid arguments? No, I’m not. Am I going to miss the burst of adrenaline you get when you make a good save? Am I going to miss the pride when one of my teammates scores or makes a good move? Am I going to miss winning - because it _is_ about winning, after all. Well, yes, probably. It’s why we do it, after all. But what I’m really going to miss is my mates.”

He saw her smile. “That sounds a lot like what Roger said earlier, and you all laughed at him.”

“Roger got laughed at for being Roger, and for making it a House thing, but he knows it’s true. He feels the same, I’d bet.”

“Still. To have worked so hard this year, and to have come so close. Poor Owen looked absolutely devastated.”

He let out a quiet sigh. “The poor kid can’t help but compare himself to Cedric. Would we have won this year if he was playing? Yes, absolutely. There’s no doubt in my mind. But he’s not here, and we had to work with what we have. Owen’s feeling down on himself, but considering this is his first year, he was excellent, and we couldn’t have asked for anything more from him. Even Smith was OK as a Chaser.”

Michelle pursed her lips thoughtfully, her hand absently, idly, stroking his chest in a way that was thoroughly distracting. “Not as captain, though. If the team needed anything when it mattered, I noticed that everyone tended to go to you.”

“Smith still has a lot of learning to do. Hopefully he’s starting to realise that himself.”

“Yeah, like about being a better team-mate, and about sportsmanship,” she snorted delicately. “Everyone noticed him hiding away at the top of the stand, keeping away from the rest of you, and after the game he basically vanished.” He shrugged to concede the point, and she added, “I still think Leah would have done better than him.”

“Perhaps. Maybe she’ll get her chance next year, there’s plenty of spots that are going to be open. There’s just Smith, Gwion, and Owen left from this year.”

“I doubt it. She was saying the other day that having seen how N.E.W.T. year has been for us, there’s no way she can afford to play Quidditch on top of that. Plus, Smith will probably want to build something with people that’ll be around for a bit longer, too.”

“You’re probably right. That Kerry that’s mates with Rafa could be worth a look. Leah’s been unlucky, really, she’s always sort of been nearly-but-not-quite whenever there’s been a spot up for grabs. If she got a run of games, I think she’d have come good.”

She let out a sleepy purr of agreement, and he looked down at her face for a long moment, peaceful and serene. He was entranced by the curves of her cheek, her lips, her chin, the angle of her jawline and her nose, so familiar and yet so perfect to him, and felt his heart swell painfully. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair, whispering, “I love you, Michelle.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and she stilled. “I love you, too.” After a moment, she relaxed again, and asked, “What brought that on?”

He shrugged, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. “Nothing really. I just realised that I probably ought to tell you that more often.”

She snuggled closer to him, her grip tightening, and whispered, “Please do. Tell me every day.”


	30. Finals countdown

The last two weeks before exams flew by with terrifying speed. Every minute outside of class was spent in the library or with their noses in a book in the common room - except for at least an hour a day, when Evan would insist that they take a break and go outside together, where studying could be the last thing on their mind. They did get a few jokes and knowing looks at first, but she noticed that Mike and Maxi soon started doing the same thing, and so did the others when they tried it, too. Fresh air and a change of scenery and putting the pressure aside for a while was a wonderful relief, and clearing their heads made it easier to actually force more information in when they resumed their work. Mental digestion time, as Chris called it, seemed like a perfect description.

It wasn’t always easy to keep focused when they got back to their books, especially if she and Evan had found time to themselves. Just one look from him would send an electrified tingle rocketing through her veins, and Transfiguration or Herbology or Charms would shoot right out of her head in favour of blissful reminiscence or feverish imagination. There was no helping their friends’ giggles when that happened, and all she could do was join in and try to force the blood out of her cheeks and her mind back on the job.

If the seventh-years were feeling the pressure, the fifth-years were almost in a state of nervous collapse. Hannah Abbott dissolved into tears one night in the common room over the correct fertiliser to use for Snargaluff vines, Leanne and Megan had a blazing row about cheering charms, and Ernie MacMillan developed an irritating habit of constantly quizzing people about how much revision they were doing - or, for the older years, just how much revision they had done and what their final grades were. It was because he was in agonies of anxiety, of course, but it was still infuriating, and thankfully it came to an abrupt halt when he cornered Mike in the Hufflepuff common room for the fourth time and was told to bugger off before he was hexed blind and hung by his testicles from the weather vane atop the Astronomy Tower. Despite her own heavy workload, Michelle did manage to squeeze in a couple of study sessions on Potions for them. Likewise, Ellie Midgeon wheedled Evan into helping them out on Charms one afternoon, too, because the Charms exam was up first for everyone. Their gratitude for the seventh-years’ help was effusive, bordering on embarrassing.

The fifth-years weren’t the only ones suffering from nerves. Michelle ducked into her dorm late on Thursday afternoon to swap textbooks, and paused when she heard a quiet sniffling from the far corner. Becky was sitting cross-legged on her bed with her head in her hands and tremors running through her shoulders.

“Bec? Hey. Are you all right?”

Becky sniffed loudly and rubbed her eyes, but her only reply was an awkward shrug. Abandoning her books, Michelle walked quietly over to sit beside her and put an arm around her. She didn’t say anything, just held her until the tears tapered off.

“It would be you, wouldn’t it?” Becky mumbled in a watery voice, straightening up and accepting the handkerchief Michelle offered her. “Just to make me feel worse.”

“I’m not here to fight, Becky,” she said softly. She noticed that her old friend didn't pull away.

“I know. Sorry.”

Michelle summoned a kind smile. “I guess you’re feeling the pace like the rest of us, too, huh?”

Becky took a breath, like she was going to deny it, but then her shoulders slumped. “Yeah,” she admitted. “It’s just…. Everything is piling up, and there just isn’t any more _time_, and, and… well, I feel like I’m on my own and I miss you guys, too. It’s just… oh, I don’t know.”

“You know, someone told me once that sometimes you just need a bit of a cry in private before you pull yourself together.”

Becky managed a small grin at that. “I wonder who that was. They must be pretty smart.”

“Very humble, too. Look, I know you were angry with me, but I’ll try to explain, if you like?”

Becky shrugged awkwardly, but didn’t reply. _Well, she’s still here, so here goes_.

“I know my judgement is always going to be coloured when it comes to Evan. How could it not be? I’ve been in love with him since before I really knew what that means. But at the same time, I know him. I really do know him, Becky, and I know what he was thinking.” She took a deep breath. “When Professor Sprout told him that his ban had been lifted, he tried to work out the best thing to do in the circumstances. He did his research, he asked his teammates for advice, and in the end, he made a decision and it turned out badly. And do you know what? No matter how much it hurt, I can forgive him for that. Because if he made a mistake, then I did, too. Because he asked _me_ what he should do - and I told him to play. And let me tell you, that hasn’t sat easily on my conscience, either.”

“I didn’t know that,” Becky admitted quietly. “Really?”

“Really. And after… after he’d been hurt, well, he wasn’t trying to be the hero, or thinking with his ego. He was trying to help his mates.” She swallowed, the image of the hunched, bloodied figure wobbling out into play again flashing through her mind. “He was so bloody angry that the Slytherins were taking it out on his mates, and he just wanted to give them a chance. He didn’t care what the score was, or if we won, he wanted it to be over.”

“He shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know. And he knows that, too. But that’s the sort of person he is, and I have to accept that. I love him so damn much, Becky, and I love that part of him, too. Even if I wish he wouldn’t feel like he has to do things like that, it’s part of who he is.” She needed a deep breath to steel herself for the next part. “As for you and me, it felt like you were trying to make my decisions for me.”

Becky twitched, and looked up at her properly for the first time. “I wasn’t-”

“You weren’t listening, and it felt like you were trying to force me to choose between you and Evan,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry, but that’s what it felt like.”

Becky sighed and looked down, picking idly at the heel of her sock. “And you chose him.”

Arguments and explanations rose up in her mind, but in the end she settled on a simple, “I did,” and Becky huffed in disgruntlement. “I didn’t want to have to pick a side, and I certainly didn’t want to lose you as a friend. I hope I haven’t. I hate that I feel like we’ve driven you off from the rest of our friends, too.”

“You haven’t. That’s been my choice,” Becky said leadenly.

“It doesn’t have to be,” she said tentatively, rubbing Becky’s back. “Everyone wants things to go back to how they were, and we need you for that.”

Becky forced out a shaky breath, and stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t just go out there and pretend that nothing happened.”

“Maybe not, but you can make a start. If you’re worried about Evan, or angry at him, well, no-one says you have to be best buds with him. Just come and join in with the rest of us. It’ll be OK.”

“You think?”

Michelle smiled at the hope in her voice, and hugged her tightly. “You’ll be absolutely fine. Now, go and wash your face, and we’ll go out there together. How about it?”

* * * * *

Evan looked up from his Herbology textbook when she walked in, looking pleased with herself. He couldn’t help it, somehow her presence called to him almost like a magnet. And, to his surprise, Becky was following close behind her and took a position on the end of the table where the seventh-years were working, albeit rather reluctantly. Maxi and Tammy greeted Becky with evident pleasure, and feeling like he should do the right thing, he joined in with the general chorus welcoming her back. Seconds later, he heard the swish of her skirt beside him and felt her lips brush the angle of his jaw. Michelle was back again, pulling the folder full of her notes into her lap to make room so that she could spread her textbook next to his, a small, victorious smile on her face. He looked at her in enquiry, and she tilted her head slightly, shrugging one shoulder. _We’ll talk later_.

Becky was very quiet at first, but he noticed how Ravi skilfully drew her into conversation, including her in the general discussion of how best to prepare screechsnap seedlings for re-potting. A hand squeezed his forearm; Michelle had noticed him noticing, and he reached over to put his other hand on hers briefly. Becky didn’t talk to him, or even really look at him, but just having her back with the group was an improvement and he didn’t want to push her. Later, when they went up to dinner, he nudged Michelle to go and sit with her. Even if she wasn’t talking to him, it was good to see that she was reconciling with Michelle.

Late that night, after they had beaten their brains to a pulp on revision, Evan and Michelle dragged a loveseat over to one of the windows, where they could open the panes wide and cuddle together in the warm, fitful breeze while they gazed up at the darkening sky and the stars peeking out of the twilight. It was a much-needed chance to relax and talk and just enjoy being together.

“-I’m just glad she’s back and talking to everyone else again,” Michelle concluded.

“I think it might take me and Becky a little longer to sort things out, but you’re right,” he said quietly, before changing the subject. “Last day of actual lessons, tomorrow. Wow, that seems hard to believe, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. And then there’s just the weekend and we’re into exams. I guess it’ll be Charms all weekend.”

He puffed out his cheeks, “Until Sunday evening, yes. After dinner, I’ve decided that’s it. If I don’t know anything by then, I’ll never know it.”

She lifted her head off his shoulder to stare at him in surprise. “So what are you going to do instead?”

“Something else. I’m not sure what, just yet. I just think I’ll do better if I de-stress and make sure I get a good night’s sleep rather than being completely wound up until the last second.”

“Wow. I was going to say that’s brave, but I suppose Charms is your best subject,” she said, settling back down against him. In a movement that was becoming worryingly automatic, his hand fell back into place at her waist again.

“After Magical Creatures, anyway. And then we’ve got two whole days to prepare for Herbology on Thursday. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

“So no slacking off ahead of that one?”

He had to grin. “I’ll see how I feel. I mean, Care of Magical Creatures is the next day, which is a bit of a bugger.”

He felt her shoulders slump. “Tell me about it! After Defence on Monday, it’s Transfiguration on Wednesday and then Potions to finish off with on Thursday! Ugh, the two hardest subjects just _have_ to have their exams on consecutive days, don’t they?”

“It does seem a bit unfair, you’re right. They have to have them sometime, I suppose.”

“Stop being reasonable! And because you’ll be finished and fancy-free, you get to be my slave on Wednesday afternoon.”

He laughed, and kissed her cheek and purred, “And how is that different to normal, my princess?”

She leaned into him, her hand running seductively down his chest. “I expect a steady diet of toffee and kisses to keep me going,” she giggled.

He could feel himself responding to the promise in her words, and tilted his head to nibble on her neck, “Not too many kisses, or you might find it hard to concentrate on Potions.”

“You’re right there,” she gasped, sliding her leg over his until she was almost on top of him. “Oh, don’t stop!”

He sat back, knowing there was a huge grin on his face despite the urge to do just as she said. “I think I’d better, or I’m not sure I _am _going to stop.”

Her eyes flew wide and darted around them, even pushing herself up to peer around the nearly-empty common room before she settled back down, apparently satisfied that no-one had noticed their carry-on. “Sometimes, I have trouble remembering that’s a bad thing.”

He rested his forehead against hers, staring deep into those beautiful dark eyes, and whispered, “Who said it was a bad thing? Just, not here.”

Her fingers trailed gently down his cheek, her eyes closing briefly. “I know. Soon, though.”

He shivered. Her whispered words were laced with desire, but later… later was _complicated_. He would give anything not to hurt her, but he knew there were decisions to be made, and she would be a big part of those decisions, for good or for bad. He felt a familiar wave of panic rise up to choke him, but he wrestled it away, and was grateful when she glanced at her watch and reluctantly slid off him.

“It’s late, and we ought to be getting to bed.”

That took his thoughts in a direction that was definitely _not _helping, but he levered himself upright and followed her all the same. She stopped at the doors to their dorms and slid her arms around him once more, rising up on her toes to kiss him thoroughly. All too soon, she was stepping back, their arms reluctantly sliding apart even if their eyes were locked together.

“G’night,” she whispered softly, her fingers falling from his.

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

* * * * *

Tammy wasn’t sure what woke her, the gasps, the sobs and little moans, or low, keening sound, but she fumbled blearily for her wand on her bedside table and struck up a gentle light. In its glow, she could see Michelle’s small, jerky movements, her body rigid beneath her covers. With a noise of her own somewhere between a groan and a curse, she threw back her own covers and swung her feet to the floor.

“Michelle?” She put a hand on her shoulder and shook firmly. “Come on, Michelle, it’s all right.”

With a final, muffled shriek and a sharp twitch, Michelle’s eyes flew open. There was only time to register the wetness on her cheeks shining in the half-light before Michelle’s face crumpled and she took a deep, shivery gasp that ended in a convulsive sob.

“Michelle?”

She flipped over onto her front and buried her face in her pillows, dissolving into wrenching, broken-hearted tears.

“Tam? Whassat?”

Maxi was at the end of Michelle’s bed, still looking three-quarters asleep herself.

“Dunno,” she said in confusion. She looked down at Michelle again, then sat on the edge of her bed where she could rub her heaving shoulders soothingly. “Hey, it’s all right, ‘Chelle. Shh…”

But if anything, she simply cried harder, half-muffled by the pillows she clutched to her face. There was a creak from the mattress as Becky climbed up on the other side. “Come on, mate, just let it all out.”

Maxi looked on helplessly from the foot of the bed. “What is it? Anyone?”

Tammy shrugged, but she saw Becky scowl grumpily. “It better not be bloody Fielding again.”

“_Becky!_”

Tammy and Maxi’s hissed outrage arrived in a dead heat, but the blonde girl just ignored them, and thankfully, Michelle didn’t seem to notice.

It was quite a while before Michelle’s death-grip on her pillows slackened, and a few minutes more before their collective soothing got her to roll over. Her face was reddened and blotchy, and Tammy couldn’t stop pulling her into a tight hug when she sat up. “Aw, c’mere, ‘Chelle. It’ll be all right, mate.”

Michelle hiccoughed soddenly, and choked out an apology. “Sorry.”

“Whatever it was, we’re here now, an’ yer safe an’ sound,” Maxi said gently, as Michelle wiped her eyes with the back of her trembling hand.

She looked around the group despite her puffy eyes, and nodded, although it took a few moments before she could steady herself enough to speak. “Dream. Just a dream,” she whispered, shivering.

“It’s just a nightmare ‘cos of exams,” Maxi added reassuringly. “Yer tired an’ stressed an’ overdoing it. Remember O.W.L. year? I had that dream where me quills kept turnin’ into rubber chickens on me in the middle of our Transfiguration exam while McGonagall glared at me. I woke up convinced I’d failed it all so bad!”

Michelle let out a gasp that might have been a chuckle, and took deep, slow breaths, obviously trying to calm herself. Tammy conjured a handkerchief with her free hand and passed it to her.

“Ya going to be all right, Michelle?” Maxi asked quietly.

She nodded. “Thanks,” she said in a small voice. “Sorry for waking everyone.”

“Ah, don’t fret yerself, girl, there’s nothin’ to be sorry for.”

Michelle had stopped shaking, and Tammy let her go, looking intently at her. “Do you want me to stay?” she asked, very softly, “Or will you be all right on your own?”

“On my own,” Michelle whispered, not looking at her. “Thanks, Tam.”

She hopped over to her own bed and crawled under the covers, now cool as the warmth of her body had long since faded. A glance at the clock showed that it was nearly six. _Six a.m. on a bloody Sunday. Being awake at this time ought to be a crime. And there’s probably not enough time to go back to sleep, but…_

Almost to her surprise, the sound of the loo flushing woke her an hour later. A zombified Becky emerged from the bathroom and stumbled back to bed, but this time Tammy knew further sleep would be impossible. With a reluctant sigh, she got up, pulled on a dressing gown, and went out to the common room with her Charms notes tucked under her arm.

Given that he was an early riser, perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Evan was just stepping out of the door from the boys’ dorms already showered and dressed, his blond hair roughly dragged into order. He smiled and gave her a little wave, dropping onto one of the couches with a Charms textbook. Rather than join him, she took an armchair nearby and reluctantly cracked open her notes.

She hadn’t got more than a few pages in when she heard the pad of bare feet and looked up. Michelle paused in the doorway from their dorm, still in her night clothes and with a haggard look on her face, until her eyes locked onto the figure of her boyfriend. Her shoulders slumped, and she walked unsteadily over to him. Ignoring his concerned, “Are you all right?”, she simply sat on his lap and swung her feet up into the couch, snuggling into his chest and burying her face in the side of his neck. He pulled her close without hesitation despite the confusion on his face, and rather than just announce it so that anyone would hear, Tammy dropped her book and stepped over to the couch to explain.

“Morning, Evan. Michelle had a bit of a nightmare last night,” she told him in a low voice. “She woke up in absolute floods of tears.”

There was an odd, conflicted look on his face before he looked down at his girlfriend and dropped a kiss on her hair, his eyes closing briefly as he squeezed her gently. “Thanks, Tammy,” he said at last, his voice rough and raspy. Feeling that she’d done what she could without intruding, she backed off and left them to it.

Normally, neither of them were much for public displays, but although the common room slowly began to fill up, Michelle didn’t move. Despite the stares and the curious murmurs and a few poorly-stifled laughs, neither did Evan, except to stroke her hair or run a soothing hand around her back. _I probably ought to stop people-watching, but… like hell!_ She saw Michelle’s mouth move, and realised that although Evan’s was hidden by her hair, he must have been speaking to her. _I wonder what they’re saying? ‘Oh, darling, cutesy-wootsy-sweetie-pie, __let me kiss it better__!’ Blech! Except, they’re really not like that, are they? They seem to have skipped most of the lovey-dovey crap, thankfully, even if Michelle’s acting like a bit of a baby, right now. And of course, he indulges her._ She pulled herself up mentally. _Wow, are you being enough of a bitch there, Applebee? She was in bits earlier, of course he’s going to comfort her._

She was starting to think maybe Michelle had dropped off to sleep when she spotted the corners of her friend’s mouth twitch upwards, and Michelle lifted her head from Evan’s chest. She murmured something, too low for Tammy to hear, and slid off him at last, heading back towards the dormitories with her head low. Tammy was going to take the piss out of Evan a little, but he let his head fall back against the couch and tiredly ran his hands over his face, and the urge abruptly subsided. To her surprise, he looked a bit sick, actually, and she felt an unaccustomed twinge of doubt. _What is it that they know that I don’t? Well, obviously, but to cause this reaction from both of them?_

She was still pondering that when Michelle emerged again, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt and with her hair combed but still wet. She walked straight to Evan, who rose to his feet to meet her, and she smiled shyly at him before they turned and headed upstairs to the Great Hall without a word, his hand sliding surreptitiously into hers. _And just like that, all is well in the house of the lovers_. Shaking her head, she turned back to her notes and tried to tune them out of her thoughts. _One more day. Just today, and then it’s on._

_Oh my God, I am so screwed._

* * * * *

Despite his good intentions and getting an early night, Evan woke annoyingly early on Monday morning. Around him, Chris and Ravi were already awake and moving, too, and even Mike was showing signs of life. Rolling over and swinging his feet onto the floor, he could already feel the tingles and twitches of nervous energy running through him. _This is no good, I need to settle myself down or I’ll be a mess by nine thirty_. He mulled it over in his mind for a minute, then got up and rummaged around for his running gear.

Ravi stopped in the middle of knotting his tie to stare at him in disbelief. “You do know you’re an absolute madman, don’t you?”

“So you keep telling me.”

“And you’re going off alone? Today, of all days?”

The Slytherins would almost certainly be asleep or lurking in their common room, but that was no reason to let his guard down completely. He tied his shoes and grabbed his wand off his nightstand.

“You can come along if you like.”

“Not a chance! I tell you what, though, you’d better be back for breakfast, or if the Slytherins don’t get you, I bloody well will!”

“Cheers, mate.”

He made it outside unmolested, and set off at an easy lope for the path along the lake. The grass was damp underfoot from an overnight shower, but the skies were clear apart from a few high clouds and the sun was already warming things up, promising a fine day. He found himself puffing a bit after fifteen minutes, so turned around and retraced his steps. _There’s no need to knacker myself, just take the edge off. And if I’m feeling it by this point, then clearly I’ve spent too much time in the castle avoiding the Snakes in the last couple of months!_

He made it back to his dorm more out of breath than he would have liked, but feeling the pleasant burn of exertion and, best of all, the worst of the nervous energy was gone. He showered and dressed, and emerged into the common room to find Michelle waiting for him with Mike, Maxi, Ravi, and Becky.

“Morning, everyone.”

He got a greeting out of all of them, although Michelle was still clutching her Charms textbook and looking rather wild about the eyes, and Becky was eyeing him warily.

“Where are the others? Having breakfast already?”

“Yeah,” said Ravi. “We were waiting for you.”

“Shall we go, then?”

When Michelle went to step past him still clutching her textbook, he caught her arm and smiled reassuringly at her. “It’s OK, you don’t need that.”

Her knuckles whitened. “But-”

“But you’ll be fine. You know everything you need to know, and as long as you keep calm and don’t get overwhelmed by the moment, you’re going to be awesome.”

She gazed up at him for along moment, her eyes huge, then slowly blew out a breath. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he whispered, kissing her gently. “Now, shall we get some breakfast?”

The tension in the Great Hall could already be cut with a knife - and not a very sharp one. There were panic-stricken faces all over the fifth- and seventh-years huddled into frantic little groups at their house tables, some still desperately leafing through textbooks in search of last-minute enlightenment, some seemingly either in despair or deep prayer.

_Ah, just another exam day at Hogwarts. No pressure, right? If Peeves lets off a cracker right now, there’ll be carnage._

* * * * *

If it wasn’t for her clever, talented, handsome, supportive, and utterly infuriating boyfriend, she was sure she would have screamed. Instead, Evan held her hand in the Entrance Hall where they waited for their written Charms exam to begin and chatted about nothing much in particular to her and their friends, all the while exuding poise, calm, and complete confidence - both in himself, and even in her. Michelle wasn’t quite so sure, but she was certainly grateful for it.

At length, the two, huge doors opened and a tiny, ancient little wizard called them through. The house tables had been swept aside and replaced with individual desks and chairs. “O.W.L. students to the front, N.E.W.T. students to the rear, please. O.W.L. students to the front, N.E.W.T. students to the rear.”

She clutched the hand in hers a little tighter and, trying not to shake, they found desks side-by-side. A brimming ink pot and several new quills were waiting for her on her desk, and she slid into her chair and tried to take a few deep, steadying breaths. It wasn’t easy, especially as she’d had to drop Evan’s hand and could no longer rely on its steady reassurance. _That’s it, I’m on my own, now. He can’t do this for me, no one can. It’s down to me. I can do this. I can _do_ this, I know I can._

There were low, anxious murmurs all around her, but Evan simply sat there like he was in the library. _No, damn him, like he’s in the common room! How can he be so calm! _How_?!_

“Your papers will appear on your desk at precisely nine thirty. You will have three hours to complete the examination. If you have a question or problem, or you finish early, please raise your hand and wait for one of the proctors to see you. Good luck, everyone! Your time starts… _now!_”

The huge hourglass at the front turned over with a thump, and a hard, flat breath shot out of her lungs as an exam booklet appeared in the middle of her desk. With trembling hands, she took a quill, wrote her name on the front page, and then began to read.

* * * * *

She staggered out of the Great Hall on half-numb, rubbery legs and euphoria, the sheer relief making her weak at the knees. Rather than waiting in the entrance while the tables were restored for lunch, she followed the others outside, where she could suck in the clean, fresh air, and finally throw her arms around Evan.

He laughed and twirled her around. “See? I knew you’d be just fine!”

Laughing, she spun a second time until he caught her and his lips met hers. She kissed him hungrily, twining her arms around his neck and pulling him close. When she stepped back, her head still spinning, she realised that their friends were laughing at them.

“Ugh, I take back everything I ever said,” Tammy said, rolling her eyes. “You two are utterly, utterly disgusting.”

“You’re just jealous, Tammy.” To her surprise, it was Becky, giggling along with the rest of them. “Perhaps you need a bit of that sort of one-on-one motivational training, yourself!”

“I think it must be a couples thing,” said Ravi, chuckling merrily.

Tammy put her hands on her hips in mock-indignation. “You reckon, do you? Well, let’s poll the rest of the group, shall we? Is it working for you, Maxi?”

She just snorted in disgust. “Ha! Chance would be a fine thing. Up yer bloody game, McManus!”

It was brilliant to hear everyone laugh, and they finally filed back inside for lunch a much happier and more optimistic group than they’d been in the morning. The good humour lasted through quiche and sandwiches, and then it was back into the entrance hall where they would wait until called forward by surname for the practical. Perhaps she would have felt nervous, but Evan was there again, calm and cheerful, and it rubbed off on her, too, even if they couldn’t speak much. Maybe half an hour in, a thin, elderly witch came to the doors and called for ‘Engel, Gabriel, and Fielding, Evan.”

She took a deep breath. “This is it. Good luck, Evan.”

He kissed her quickly, his hands cupping her face. “I’ll see you later, all right? You’ll be brilliant, I know you will.”

“Mr. Fielding,” came the proctor’s voice, impatient but amused.

With a grin and a wink, Evan was gone. That left her to pace and chew her lip anxiously, but after a few agitated circuits, she forced herself to stop and take a deep breath. _Keep calm. Panicking isn’t going to help, remember? _It was almost a relief when the witch called her name and she could slip through into the Great Hall.

“I think Professor Marchbanks will see you, Miss Taylor.”

Trying not to pay attention to the shaking in her legs, she walked quickly to the desk indicated, where a tiny, stooped witch with a face like a contour map of the highlands awaited her. She looked incredibly frail, but that was belied by the brisk strength in her voice.

“Name, please? Taylor? Ah yes, here we go. My name is Professor Marchbanks and this is your N.E.W.T. examination, yes? Good, good.” She placed a metal egg cup on the desk between them. “Now then, let’s start you off with something simple, shall we? How about a colour changing charm?”

For a terrifying split-second, Michelle’s mind was blank._ Colour changing charm?_ She forced herself to breathe, and suddenly an image came to mind of sitting with Evan, an easy smile on his face while they took turns to turn an old, cracked teacup blue, yellow, red, turquoise…

With a smile of her own, she lifted her wand, and began.

* * * * *

Monday’s success in Charms seemed to have broken the back of the crippling nervousness for her. Getting through Charms and being sure she’d done well, she took that confidence into Herbology on Thursday. After all Evan’s reassurances on Monday, it was amusing to realise that she came out of the greenhouses more confident of a good mark than he did, although he was still satisfied with his performance.

“I’m not going to get an Outstanding, but I know I’ve done as well as I can, and I’m happy with that,” he explained later.

She had until Monday to prepare for her next exam, but Evan spent his Friday tied up with Care of Magical Creatures.

“Aced it,” he told her laconically when he got back, a huge grin on his face. He started to laugh, “Do you know what they wheeled out for part of the practical? Thestrals! And then the examiner started asking me a whole load of questions about porlocks! I think she got a bit side-tracked there, actually, because she seemed to be in a heck of a rush to get through everything else.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief at his good fortune. “I'm surprised the rest of the exam wasn’t about hippogriffs, at that rate!”

The big question when it came to Defence Against the Dark Arts was whether to try and study up on Wilbert Slinkhard’s utter bilge, which was generally held to be an impossible task, or to prepare for a traditional exam in line with previous years and focus on Emeritus Bright’s _Defeating the Darkness_. The popular vote was a landslide for Emeritus Bright, but even that choice seemed like a forlorn hope given that they were having to rely on what they’d taught themselves through their own studies.

“I’ll just be happy if I don’t end up with a ‘T’,” Maxi said glumly.

Mike snorted in disgust, “Ha! If it meant Umbridge got fired, I wouldn’t care except for the complete waste of my time this year.”

Despite the distinct and leaden lack of enthusiasm, they did their best to catch up on what they could, and Maxi, Tammy, and Mike tried not to look too enviously at Becky, who was free to focus on Ancient Runes for the exam on Tuesday.

“It’s bloody unfair, really,” Tammy said grumpily to Michelle late on Saturday night. “I mean, Defence on Monday, Ancient Runes on Tuesday, and then Transfiguration on Wednesday? What fresh hell is this?”

“We’ve got to have them some time,” Michelle pointed out. “If it helps, I have Potions on Thursday to look forward to.”

“I’m not sure that ‘look forward to’ are the words I’d choose for that!”

Defence Against the Dark Arts lived down to their expectations in that not a single question related to negotiating with dark creatures, nor required running away and telling an adult. Instead, it appeared to be very much in line with previous N.E.W.T. exams, and as such, there were a depressingly large number of questions that could only be answered with a dash of their sixth-year knowledge, a fragment or two of _Defeating the Darkness, _and a large helping of flannel and hope. The practical in the afternoon was nearly as bad. She didn’t need to do Divination to read the disappointment and confusion on the examiner’s face, but she struggled through as best she could.

“Do you know what? I’m not even going to bother caring how I did on that,” she said to Evan when they were released for the day. “I know I ought to, but it’s not our fault if Umbridge didn’t actually bother teaching us anything.”

“I know what you mean,” he replied, with a shrug. “And what do you know, the only useful things for the exam was the stuff we taught ourselves.”

They took the rest of the night off to unwind a little and relax - and to spend some time together - because they had the whole of Tuesday to prepare for Transfiguration. That also meant that they could keep out of the way of Maxi, Tammy, and Mike, who had plunged into last-minute swotting for Ancient Runes in a feverish near-panic.

“I’ll be glad when this is all over,” she confided to Evan later, as they sat on the loveseat in front of the open windows and watched the stars come out. “I thought I’d be dreading it, but now I just want it to be over.”

He smiled, and leaned his head against hers. “Not long now. Just another couple of days to go.”


	31. Umbridge's Apogee

Michelle was one of the last to emerge from the Transfiguration practical, together with Kenny Towler. Evan had been watching the door from the Great Hall impatiently ever since he’d completed his own exam, more anxious for her than he’d been for his own test. Her eyes caught his, and she walked quickly towards him with an ever-widening grin, until she could fling her arms around him and hug him tightly. Talking was frowned upon until the exam was officially finished, but he could see from her bright and happy demeanour that things must have gone well. After a long, blissful moment, she let go and turned to lean back into him while his arms enveloped her from behind.

Time ticked away until the doors opened once more, emitting the last students, with the witch in charge on their heels.

“Well done, everyone! The examination is now complete, and that is the end of N.E.W.T. Transfiguration. You’re dismissed.”

There was a general murmur of relief, and Michelle grabbed his hand and they joined the general exodus that led back into the Entrance Hall. There, the noise level abruptly picked up as everyone felt the freedom to talk, and there were congratulations and hugs and handshakes between three of the houses. The Slytherins slunk off as a group - with one exception, as supremely indifferent to the scowls and suspicious looks as ever.

“No doubt you considered that disgustingly easy.”

Evan grinned. “Even I’ll admit that was tough, Gabriel. I think I did all right, though. How about you?”

He pursed his lips, “A high Acceptable or a low Exceeds, I think. Good enough, anyway.” He shrugged, “Transfiguration was never my strong suit, but getting to know you in first year has probably paid off.”

Evan chuckled. “Wow. Feel the love. I’m so honoured.”

“And so you should be. A poor, dumb, Hufflepuff, with the privilege of helping big, superior old me. Bow down, mortals,” Gabriel replied archly. “Seriously, though. Thanks.”

He hesitated, “You know, if it wasn’t for that stupid Inquisition nonsense, I’d say you should join us all, later. There’s got to be a party tonight.”

He grimaced, “Parties and the like will have to wait. Unlike you, I’m not done yet. Thanks, though.” He looked over to where Michelle was lingering expectantly. “Still, I’m keeping you from your girlfriend. Fielding, Taylor.”

With a polite nod, Gabriel sauntered off, leaving Michelle to hook her arm through his once more with a wide smile.

“Done at last, eh?” she asked brightly.

“Yeah. I really am, I suppose. That’s it, there is no more. But you have Potions tomorrow, too.”

She sighed, her good mood faltering a little at the reminder. “Yeah, so I’d better get back to the common room and try to swot up on it. Chris and I are going to study together. What about you, what are you going to do with your newfound freedom?”

“I thought I was supposed to be your slave this afternoon?”

“I’d nearly forgotten about that!” she said, with a giggle.

“Wow. I see how highly I rank in your priorities - the forgotten slave.”

She nudged him playfully with her hip, “It’s more of a self-protective thing, because if I have you waiting on me hand and foot, I am _never_ getting any work done, tonight!”

He laughed, “Well, there is that, I guess. Maybe I should go and see the hippogriffs again. I’m not going to get that many more chances.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, “Somehow, you’re going to have to break it to Caroline and Storm.”

“Yeah. I’m going to miss them, you know? I shouldn’t, of course, but…”

“Well, you’ve just spent all year working closely with them, why shouldn’t you get attached to them?! They certainly are to you.”

“I suppose.” He tried to perk himself up and gave her a smile, “Anyway, I won’t be too long, I don’t think, so I’ll see you at dinner.”

He got a kiss goodbye to help him on his way, and he made his way outside and set off on the familiar path around the castle, opting to walk rather than fly to the clearing. The weather was fine, and there was no need to hurry. Not any more, at any rate. _Poor Michelle, stuck inside, working while I’m roaming around out here. Still, just one more exam for her. _

His head was still full of thoughts of Michelle as he passed through the clearing, and he was just on the verge of stepping out of the trees and into the hippogriff paddock when a spell jolted him rigid, and he toppled like a felled oak onto his face. He couldn’t even grit his teeth to brace against the fall. He heard the crunch of footsteps on the old leaf litter, and then something kicked him hard in the back, then again in the ribs, rolling him over. A pair of eyes, feverish with excitement, glared down at him over the length of a wand, and he felt a sick swoop of trepidation in his stomach. _Cassius Warrington. This isn’t going to be pretty_.

“Not so bloody clever now, are you, you smug, arrogant, Mudblood-loving bastard!” The sheer, stone-cold malice in his voice made Evan shiver - or it would have done, had he been able to move a muscle. “Not so high-and-mighty now. You might’ve thought you’d gotten away with cursing Graham, but I knew. I knew, watching you swan around, laughing like it was some sort of joke, laughing at _me_ and playing innocent. Well, you’re going to get what’s coming to you, you sanctimonious _prick!_ And you know what? I’m not even going to lay a finger on you to do it. I’ve thought about this for weeks. I’ve _dreamed _about this. I mean, I suppose I could just give you what I gave that gormless little pig-bitch of yours, but that’s too likely to come back on me. But if there was an accident, if you were to be fed to your little pets, instead? Oh dear, what a tragedy!” he sneered in a voice thick with sarcasm. “Spent all his time with those stupid animals, and got himself eaten. Boohoo, how sad, another disgrace of a wizard gone before he can pollute our kind any further. And as much as I’d love to make you squirm myself, I’ll have to settle for watching you die, instead.”

Warrington stepped back, and Fielding felt himself lifted into the air and float towards the hippogriff paddocks. He desperately tried to move, to scream, anything, but the spell held him locked fast. _Petrification spell. There’s got to be something I can do!_ he thought desperately. _Can’t get to my wand, can’t break his concentration, hell’s teeth, what-_

Suddenly, he was soaring through the air to crash down onto the turf, knocking all the breath out of him. He bounced and rolled a couple of times, but when he came to rest he could only see the sky above him, an incredibly vivid image of blue and white.

“Yoo-hoo! Dinner time!” Warrington’s voice sang out behind him, with sadistic glee. “I’ve got a nice, fresh Badger for you! Come on, you stupid bloody bird-horses, come and get it!”

There was a loud, piercing shriek. _Hotspur. Merlin, Warrington doesn’t get it, does he? He doesn’t understand what he’s getting into._

“Yes, that’s it, fresh meat! You even get to kill it yourself. Come on, there it is! Eat it! What are you waiting for, Merlin, just how dumb are you?”

There was a low, whuffling sound near his ear, and he felt something hard and slick rub his head. _Yes, Hotspur, it’s me. Don’t kill him. Please, please, don’t-_

“That’s it! That’s - no! Stupid beast! What, you need to see blood? Kill him! He’s meat!”

Something like a bolt of white-hot-ice-lightning seared across his lower ribs and stomach, and for what was either eternity or several achingly-long seconds, his mind was a white, short-circuited blank. Merlin, the pain! If it wasn’t for the spell, he’d have screamed his lungs out. He couldn’t even do more than draw breath.

There was a furious, nickering whinny from Hotspur, and a mighty, clawed talon slammed into the turf and pulled him protectively away, tumbling him over and over. Suddenly, he could move, or at least curl forward over the agony in his midriff, but it was impossible to miss Hotspur rearing high above him, wings fully spread and thrashing, and then the hippogriff threw back his head and _screamed _in rage.

The deafening noise seemed to echo from the heavens, and Warrington, perhaps realising too late just what he was messing with, was backing away in terror when he was buffeted by a small, dark-grey blur that knocked him off-balance, but Evan was desperately scrabbling for his wand. That was Storm, and that could only mean that-

“_Protego_!” His shield charm was weakened by the difficulty in forcing the word out, but it was reinforced with raw desperation, and the spell formed around Warrington a split-second before a brown blur hit him from the side like an express train, throwing him thirty feet across the paddock. Caroline had arrived, stooping on him like an eagle, and with all the force of an angry god.

“_Protego_!”

Caroline’s talons struck red sparks from his shielding spell, and then one of the younger stallions joined in the attack, rearing up and striking with his talons. Above, he could see two more hippogriffs circling, looking to stoop with a killing blow. _They’ll kill him_, he realised. _They’ll kill him unless he can get away._

He took a deep, pain-laced breath that made spots dance in front of his eyes. “_Warrington! Get into the forest! Run_!”

Hotspur was galloping towards the action, but Caroline whirled and pivoted onto her front talons, her powerful back legs bunched, and then snapped out in a crushing buck. Evan’s shield shattered under the force, and Warrington went cartwheeling away, crashing into a dazed heap.

“_Go! Get into the forest_!” Evan screamed at him. “_Protego_!”

Hotspur’s beak crashed into the shield, talons ripping, but this time Warrington managed to scramble to his feet and bolt for the trees on rubbery legs. He stumbled, and a dark-grey missile missed his head by fractions, and Fleetwing’s talons only caught Warrington’s fluttering cloak, ripping it free as she pulled up sharply to avoid hitting the trees. Warrington had made it. He was safe, or at least, as safe as he was likely to get with the whole herd lined up at the edge of the paddock, rearing and beating their wings and shrieking their challenges after him.

The racing adrenaline was starting to subside, and Evan curled around his middle with a sobbing groan, teeth gritted hard against the pain. The ground trembled, and heavy feet came nearer. There was a low, anxious croon, and Caroline nudged him gently with her beak, tilting her head to stare at him through brilliant orange eyes. She crooned again, feet and hooves shifting anxiously. He reached out a hand to pat her, then realised it was soaked in blood. She leaned into it anyway, then nudged him again. _She’s acting like I’m a wounded hippogriff_, he realised. _She’s trying to get me back on my feet_. But the ground was right there, and pleasingly solid, and he could just rest and try to get his breath back and _not move_.

It couldn’t last, not least because of the herd crowding around him. They were skittish and on edge, and he could hear many low grunts and nervous snorts, and snuffling coming from all around him. Caroline paced anxiously close by, Storm shadowing her closely, stopping every half-minute or so with a mournful croon to nudge him with her head again. Not only that, he knew he was still losing blood. Taking a few deep breaths to steel himself, he lifted a hand very carefully to his stomach. _Good. Everything’s still where it ought to be. Just as long as it stays there when I sit up_.

It was agony, but as soon as he moved, Caroline rushed forward to shove her head behind his back and help lever him into a sitting position. He put an arm around her neck and ruffled her crest, trying to distract himself from the searing agony until he was steady enough to try the next stage. He made it - just - but she had to help lift him as he hung on grimly around her neck, and to hold him up while he forced his knees not to buckle. _How the hell do I make it back to the castle like this?_

Thankfully, Caroline had the answer. As soon as he could keep his feet, she knelt next to him, fixing him with an expectant eye. It took a moment for her intention to sink in. “Well, why not, if you’ll let me.”

He got one hand on her shoulder and the other on her wing joint, and a mighty heave and a flop got him up onto her back. She took his inelegant lurching like a champion, and only once he had a leg either side of her back did she surge powerfully to her feet. _Hooves. Feet and hooves. Whatever._

His first instinct was for the castle and Madam Pomfrey, but the thought of Umbridge finding him… “Hagrid’s cottage. You know, Hagrid?”

He expected her to run, for some reason, but her wings unfolded and she nickered irritably for the other hippogriffs to clear the way, and then sprang into the air.

Bareback on a hippogriff was… an experience. _What the hell do I hang on to_, he thought frantically. It took him a minute to get used to the long, easy surge of her body in time with the beat of her wings, and no sooner was he starting to relax a little then she was gliding down in circles around Hagrid’s little house. She landed right at the front door with barely a bump, and he felt a surge of relief to see the huge shadow inside through the window. He was contemplating how to get down and actually get to Hagrid, when Caroline solved the problem for him. She simply walked up to his door and kicked it with one front talon.

Fang, Hagrid’s dog, immediately launched into his usual storm of excited barking, making Caroline step back and shake her head in irritation, but the door opened, and there was the enormous figure of the gamekeeper, trying to force Fang back inside.

“G’wan, pipe down ya-” Hagrid’s grumbling cut off abruptly when he caught sight of the sorry figure on Caroline’s back. “Gallopin’ gargoyles, what’s going on here?! Evan?”

“Hagrid,” he said, rather breathlessly. “Little help, here?”

Huge hands reached up to him, but they jerked away when they felt the wetness. “Crikey, yer bleedin’ like a good ‘un! What happened? Careful, careful now, I got yer. Get back, Fang!”

Hagrid plucked him off Caroline’s back with infinite gentleness, but it made his head spin, all the same. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the smooth, wooden floor of the cottage, and Hagrid was ransacking his dresser for a quill and paper. He scribbled something, then seized a startled barn owl out of the rafters and shoved the letter in its beak. “Madam Pomfrey, understand? Urgent-like, find her! Madam Pomfrey!” With that, the owl was unceremoniously hurled out the door. The big man’s throw should have just about carried it to the castle on its own, Evan thought dazedly. Fang was watching from on top of Hagrid’s bed, tail flailing with canine excitement.

“Never dreamed this could happen, them hippogriffs love yer,” Hagrid was muttering anxiously, tearing off a huge strip of his bed sheet. “Easy, lad, this’ll hurt a bit.”

He lied. It hurt a lot.

“Caroline,” he croaked.

“Never you mind, Evan, I’ll take care o’ her once we’ve got you in safe hands. Hang in there, now.”

Evan could feel himself starting to shiver, and he tried not to panic, but Hagrid took one of his hands and smiled reassuringly at him. “You’ll be all right, just rest easy. The nurse won’t be long, an’ there ain’t much our Madam Pomfrey can’t fix. Ha, you know that as good as anyone.”

Hagrid did his best to keep up a cheerful, reassuring patter, and a few minutes later, there was a sharp, “Good heavens!” from outside, a warning whicker, and Hagrid looked up. “I’ll be right back.”

He hurried outside, and Evan could hear him trying to calm Caroline down and lead her away, Moments later, the familiar figure of the Hogwarts nurse was crouched over him once again.

“Really, how on earth do you get yourself into these messes? I swear, you’re getting as bad as Harry Potter, at this rate.”

She raised her wand and lifted his arm out of the way. The cloth of his shirt and jumper peeled back, and she surveyed the wound intently before starting to weave her healing spells. The icy rush of a numbing charm was sudden bliss.

Hagrid clomped back in, towering anxiously over them both. “I’ve put Caroline in a halter for now. Can’t believe this could happen, he’s been right expert with me hippogriffs all year,” he was saying, “I heard a commotion out there, of course, but I was splinting a bowtruckle’s leg. I thought it was jus’ somethin’ from the Forest, it happens-”

“Hagrid, this isn’t from a hippogriff, this is a cutting curse,” Madam Pomfrey said curtly, reaching into her ever-present bag.

That cut him off in full flow. “A curse? But that means-”

“Exactly. Drink this, Mr. Fielding.”

He tried not to choke on the taste of the blood replenishing potion, and then Madam Pomfrey’s wand flared back into action. It was several minutes before she sat back and began to clean him up. “There, that should hold for now. Hagrid, can you please get a hot fire going, and some spare blankets?”

“Err, right. Right, I’ll get the kettle on, too.”

Hagrid bustled about, throwing some kindling and a few logs in the grate, then jabbing at it with a furled-up pink umbrella. The wood burst into flame, and he suddenly seemed to realise that both Evan and Madam Pomfrey were watching him. “Err… I’d be grateful if ya didn’t tell anyone about that,” he said sheepishly, before reaching in to a huge wooden chest at the foot of his bed.

The nurse quickly pulled Hagrid’s blankets over him. “Now, you just lie quietly for a while, Mr. Fielding. Hagrid, do you have any chocolate? Or anything sweet, really?”

“I think I still got some treacle toffee somewhere, might need a bit o’ softenin’ up, though.”

A thought struck Evan, and he nearly sat up until the nurse forced him back down again. “Stop! None of that!”

“Hagrid!” The movement made him gasp and he nearly choked, “Hagrid, Warrington was there! He’s, he’s-”

“Eh? He cursed you?” His ruddy face paled, “The hippogriffs?”

“Yeah. They were going for him!”

Hagrid surged to his feet in consternation, reaching for his huge overcoat that hung by the door.

“Hagrid, wait!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice was like a whip-crack. “Mr. Fielding, please explain.”

As quickly as he could, Evan ran through his encounter with Warrington, finishing with the Slytherin boy running into the forest to escape the enraged hippogriffs. It was a bit of a jumbled mess, but it covered the main points, and when he’d finished, the teachers exchanged tense looks.

“Hagrid, head for the hippogriff paddock, start searching from there,” Madam Pomfrey commanded. “If the boy’s lost and wandered into the Forbidden Forest, well, the hippogriffs finding him might be the least of his problems. I’ll find Minerva and ask her to check if the boy’s in the castle. If he is, she can send her patronus to you. If you find him, uh-”

“I’ll send up sparks,” said Hagrid, reaching for his pink umbrella again and a massive crossbow. “I’ll think o’ something.” He let out a growl of frustration, “I was hopin’ ter keep Umbridge out o’ this, ‘least ‘till we’d had a chance to think it over some more.”

“We can’t worry about that now, whatever Warrington might or mightn’t have done, we’ve got to find him before it gets dark. Now, get moving!”

“Fang! C’mon, boy!” His face set grimly, Hagrid hurried out with his boarhound on his heels.

“Fielding, I can leave you here, or I can get you into the castle,” Madam Pomfrey said quickly.

“I’ll head for the castle, now don’t let me hold you up.”

She studied him closely. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Madam Pomfrey had to pull the blankets off him and help him to his feet, but once he was upright he found that he could just about walk all right. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

She nodded sharply, “I’ll see you in the hospital wing.” With that, the nurse jogged hurriedly for the castle, and Evan followed her rather more slowly.

Bright light spilled out the castle windows, and as he limped nearer, Evan pulled his robes closely around himself, hiding the damage and the blood. _Handy things, black robes_. A few students were passing through the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall for dinner and gave him happy, post-exam grins and greetings, but he returned them as naturally as possible without breaking stride. The stairs were a bit of a slog, and it was a relief to turn into the deserted corridor to the hospital wing.

Inside, the hospital wing was lit up by the setting sun through the tall windows that looked out onto the grounds. He slumped into a chair in the little waiting area by the nurse’s office, and tried to pull the thoughts together in his head.

Warrington had tried to kill him, that was the long and short of it. He’d _actually _tried to kill him. Trussed him up in a body bind, and in his ignorance, tried to provoke the hippogriffs into doing his dirty work. Instead, the hippogriffs knew Evan as one of their own and tried to protect him. It was only luck that Warrington hadn’t paid for his ignorance with his life. _And he still may have_.

Evan shook his head. _Why does that bother me so much? He wasn’t batting an eyelid at bumping me off. But I suppose that’s the difference. What a mad old bloody world!_ He looked down, where his shirt and jumper gaped open. A thick, livid red line ran diagonally from under his right pec across his ribs and down nearly to his hip. He supposed he was lucky. A little more energy in the curse, and it would have spilled his guts on the grass. _How the hell do I tell Michelle about this_, he thought in despair. _She’ll be in bits if she finds out. Quidditch was bad enough, and now that’s all looking pretty pointless. _He rubbed tired hands over his face,_ Gabriel was right. Maybe all I did was make it worse._

Those depressing thoughts chased themselves around in his head for several minutes until he heard muffled, rather hollow voices, and Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, floated casually through the wall accompanied by the Friar.

“-her way. She asked me - ah, and there he is,” said Nearly Headless Nick, with a flourishing gesture towards Evan.

“Sir Nicholas, Friar. You’re looking for me?”

“Indeed we are. There is skulduggery afoot!” the foppish ghost said importantly.

“I do hope you’re all right?” said the Friar. “Sir Nicholas said that the Matron was most concerned.”

Evan summoned a smile. “I’ll be all right. I just need to wait for Madam Pomfrey.”

“The Matron may be some time. She contacted Professor McGonagall on a matter of some urgency, and she enlisted me to inform Professor Sprout that you had been injured. Of course, Hufflepuff is the domain of my good friend, the Friar, and so I passed on my message and then followed her second request, which was to confirm that you had, in fact, arrived here in the hospital wing. I shall report back to the Matron that you are indeed where you are expected and in good spirits. If you both will excuse me, I shall bid you adieu.”

“Thank you, Sir Nicholas.” Evan knew how much he hated his usual nickname, and sure enough, using his proper name brought a smile to the ghost’s face.

“You’re very welcome,” he said, with a short bow that had the unfortunate effect of unsettling his precariously-poised head, and he had to grab at it quickly with one hand to stop if flopping to one side. With an irritated huff, he faded back through the wall.

“Professor Sprout wanted to come, but she has had to join the search,” the Friar said. He looked over to the door, and added, “So I have asked someone else a little more corporeal than I to come and keep you company while you wait.”

The door creaked slightly as it opened, and a familiar figure slipped inside.

“Michelle?”

She paused briefly to look at him, then crept across to take the seat next to him, almost like she was afraid of making a noise. And judging from her eyes, huge even in the bright light, she really was afraid.

“Are you OK?”

He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Even if it didn’t help her, it helped him. “Yeah. The nurse patched me up before she sent me up here, but I think she wants to give me another check over when she’s not in such a rush.”

Her eyes roamed over him, taking in the tattered clothing and the dark stains all over his shirt, and she swallowed. “What happened?”

He took a deep breath, and wondered how to explain. _It’s not like I can lie to her, but I don’t want to worry her, either_. “I got jumped out by the hippogriff paddock. Warrington again.” He heard a sharp intake of breath, and forced himself to continue in as calm a voice as he could manage. “He hexed me from behind, then got me with a nasty cutter. The hippogriffs ran him off.”

“He… the hippogriffs? Then what?”

“Caroline helped me get to Hagrid’s, and he sent for Madam Pomfrey to patch me up. Right now, they’re trying to find Warrington.”

“To make sure he’s expelled, I hope!”

“The hippogriffs chased him off, but they’d have killed him if they got hold of him. Last I saw, he was running like hell into the forest, and who knows where he went. If the hippogriffs find him, he’s in major trouble. If he’s got turned around and gone into the Forbidden Forest, there’s other things in there that could make the hippogriffs look like a tea party. So yeah, the Professors are trying to find him to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

There was a long silence. “How are you feeling?”

“Rather less like my insides are going to fall out, which is good.” He glanced down at his ruined shirt and jumper again. “This term’s been hell on my school uniform.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, “Evan, I’m really doing my best not to freak out, here, so can you just… stop?”

“Sorry.” He tried for a reassuring smile, and reached up to stroke her cheek. “I’m all right, really.” Those pretty, brown eyes closed briefly, and she leaned into his touch. “It was painful and kinda messy, but there’s not much that Madam Pomfrey can’t fix.”

“There’s some things,” she said, in a near whisper. “Where does this stop, Evan? After… after Quidditch, I thought that would be the end of it.”

“I hoped so, too.” He sighed, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe this is my fault. It’s all been quiet since Quidditch, almost like everything’s normal again. I kinda hoped he’d gotten over it.”

“How is it your fault? He’s the one that keeps coming after you.”

She was right, of course. “I guess he’s going to do whatever he’s going to do, but we’re nearly there. There’s just a week left.”

She leaned up against him, and he kissed the side of her head. There was only a week left, and all that implied. There was nothing much more to be said.

* * * * *

Madam Pomfrey returned nearly an hour and a half later, flanked by Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. All three witches were grim-faced, but Evan found himself quickly whisked onto a bed at Madam Pomfrey’s mercy before he could ask the obvious question. He directed it at the Matron instead as she skilfully and efficiently dissected the remains of his jumper and shirt and cleared them out of the way.

“Did you find him? Warrington?”

“He’s safe, and back in the castle,” said Madam Pomfrey, before tipping a potion down his throat. Evan tried not to grimace at the taste. Being familiar with blood-replenishing potion was probably not a good thing. Her wand flared, and he hissed through his teeth at the sudden contraction of his stomach muscles.

“And I take it Professor McGonagall is not here for her health.”

She fixed him with a stern glare. “You assume correctly. Now, hold still.”

There was nothing for it but to lie back and wait. Under her expert care, however, the line across his torso thinned and faded, and much of the residual ache vanished with it, leaving the familiar tiredness that followed major healing. At last, she stepped back and summoned a clean shirt for him from the laundry.

“Normally, I would be tempted to keep you overnight. Do you have exams tomorrow?”

“Today was my last one.” He couldn’t resist glancing in the direction of the matron’s office. “I would prefer to just go back to my dorm, though.”

“I’m sure Miss Taylor can live without you for one night, at least,” Madam Pomfrey said briskly.

_I am shockingly transparent, aren’t I?_ Although her voice lacked some of its usual starch, he grimaced. “Miss Taylor is currently worried out of her mind and has an exam tomorrow,” he said quietly. “I can’t help with the revision she’s missed tonight, but at least she might get a decent night’s sleep if she knows I’m well enough to be released.”

“And of course you think you are, do you?”

He took a breath and bit back the obvious answer. “That’s for you to decide.”

She inhaled sharply. “I will need to see you tomorrow, after breakfast,” she conceded eventually.

“I’ll be here the second exams start,” he promised, swinging his legs onto the floor and standing up.

She stepped out and left him to pull off the last remnants of his shirt and jersey. He sized up the tattered garments, then vanished them with a sigh. _Not even good enough for dusters_. His robes weren’t a lot better, but they’d serve until he got back to the dorms. He charmed the blood off his trousers, dragged on the hospital wing shirt, then cleaned his robes and threw them on over the top.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for him right outside the curtains. Automatically, he glanced around, but there was no sign of Michelle.

“Professor Sprout took Miss Taylor back to your common room. Before you rejoin her, I must ask you to explain tonight’s events. I have already heard from Professor Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey, but I would like to hear your story, too.”

“Madam Pomfrey said that you found Warrington. Was he all right?”

“He was found near the school gates, rather scratched and covered in leaves but otherwise unharmed. I left him in the care of Professor Snape.”

_And I wonder what cock-and-bull story he’s telling?_ He shook his head and took a deep breath to answer, but jumped when the hospital wing door banged open, his hand flying automatically to his wand. The ever-unwelcome, pink tweed-clad figure of Professor Umbridge was stalking towards them with a face like thunder.

“So! You have located our troublemaker, Professor McGonagall. Did I not clearly tell you that he was to be escorted to my office immediately?”

Professor McGonagall was a tall woman who carried herself very upright at the best of times, but it was her sheer force of personality that always made her seem taller than she was. Here, confronted with the Headmistress, her lips clamped to a razor-thin line, and she seemed to draw herself up even more. Any sensible being faced with that glare and imposing figure would be slowly and carefully backing away, and Evan had to resist taking a discreet step back himself.

“Madam Pomfrey finished with him less than a minute ago, and I am trying to ascertain-”

“You were not told to ‘ascertain’, you were told to _do_!” Umbridge spat angrily. “Yet again I find you deliberately undermining my authority!”

“Yet again, you find me _doing my job_, which involves taking care of our students’ welfare, no matter what they may be accused of!”

“And your position will be reviewed as soon as this term ends! I will not have such wilfully-disobedient, obstructive staff!”

“It’s all right, Professor McGonagall, I’ll go,” he said quietly.

Professor McGonagall's white-hot glare did not leave Umbridge’s face. “No, Mr. Fielding, it is most definitely not all right,” she said, with low intensity.

Umbridge let out an angry, dismissive snort, and thrust her hand at Evan. “You! My office. Now. Move!”

_Well, it’s either that or watch them start a fight. It’s a shame, really, McGonagall would absolutely destroy her in a duel._ Reluctantly, he led the way to Umbridge’s office, an annoying itch between his shoulder blades at having his back to an enemy bothering him the whole way. The way the door to her office sprang open in front of him didn’t help, either, because that meant that she really _did_ have her wand at his back. _Nothing I can do about it now_.

Inside, the room was still every bit the affront to taste and good decor that he remembered. Umbridge scuttled past him, straightening doilies and primping the dried flowers in their vases on her way to her chair. The glint of brass from the desk caught his eye, and he had to stop his lip from curling. Who needed a name plate saying ‘Headmistress’ if it was really the case? Instead, the castle had locked her out of Dumbledore's tower and she was still lurking down in her old office, pretending to be queen. _Patience. There’s only a week of school left then she has no power over me._ And so he stood impassively in front of her desk and waited for her to stop messing around like she thought she was putting pressure on him.

She settled herself fussily into her chair, and began in her usual girlish, saccharine voice. “Well, well. After the last time you found yourself before me in this room, Mr. Fielding, I had hoped you may have learned your lesson. But instead here you are again, caught out of bounds and interfering with dangerous beasts. What do you have to say for yourself?”

_That’s the best you can come up with? Really?_ “I was not out of bounds, I was at the hippogriff paddocks,” he said, in a voice as calm and collected as he could manage.

Umbridge leaned forward in her chair, “The Forest is not part of school grounds, and is forbidden to students, as you well know. The clue is in the name!”

“And I was not in the Forbidden Forest at any time. The hippogriff paddocks are on the school grounds!”

He hesitated to say that he also had permission to be there, as he didn’t want to drag Hagrid into it. She would be only too eager for more ammunition to use against the big, genial professor. Instead, she huffed primly, and said, “Leaving the question of your precise location to one side for a moment, perhaps you can provide your version of events this evening that led to your injuries?”

“Whose other version would there be?” he asked neutrally, already knowing the answer.

“Why, Mr. Warrington’s, of course.” She sat back in her chair, steepling her hands in front of her with a nasty, triumphant smile hovering on her lips. “He was quite clear in his report, and you are most fortunate that he was there to rescue you from your folly. He acted at quite considerable risk to himself, and nearly paid most dearly for it.”

_Of course it is. Why do I even bother? I suppose I may as well waste my breath this way as any other._ “Cassius Warrington hexed me from behind without warning when I reached the hippogriff paddocks. He then slashed me open with a cutting curse, and would have done more if the hippogriffs hadn't run him off.”

She stared at him for a long moment in silence, her wide lips pinched tightly together. “And you expect me to believe this absolute poppycock? What sort of fool do you take me for?”

_A nasty, petty-minded, spiteful, vindictive moron, but here we are,_ he didn’t say.

She shook her head in insincere regret. “I am rapidly losing patience with you, Mr. Fielding. Out of bounds, and then a disgraceful attempt to concoct some wild story blaming another student in a desperate attempt to avoid responsibility. The only part that is remotely believable is the hippogriffs attacking you. Quite honestly, at this point I am tempted to simply expel you.”

_Deep breaths. Calm. Calm. _“On what grounds?”

“Lying. Out of bounds. Continued poor behaviour,” she said pompously, ticking them off on her stubby fingers. “Your conduct in this affair and over the last few months is quite simply disgraceful. You are not by any stretch of the imagination the sort of student and the sort of citizen that Hogwarts strives to mould.”

He tried to modify his glare, to take some of the heat out of it that he knew she would be enjoying. “If you want me to leave, then by all means. I have finished my N.E.W.T.s, and-”

“You are still under my authority as Headmistress of Hogwarts, Mr. Fielding, whatever you may think.” She leaned forward again, malicious delight in her eyes. “And believe me, with one word to the Ministry I can have your exam papers expunged and your wand snapped if I deem it fitting!”

_Don’t bite. Don’t react. Don’t bite_. “I’m sure the general public would be _fascinated_ to know that you’re able to interfere with the Wizarding Examinations Authority,” he said coldly. “And I dare say _they _would be interested to know that, too.”

“How dare you-!” she snarled, purpling, but he simply raised his voice and ploughed on.

_What’s the worst that she could do now, anyway?_ “And that’s before we get into the legal aspects of depriving a fully-qualified, adult wizard of their wand on your unproven whim!”

“Do not presume to threaten me, Mr. Fielding!” she all but shrieked.

“Then do not threaten me, Professor Umbridge!”

There was an abrupt, tense silence in the room. She was the first to look away, but he wasn’t prepared to count it as a victory, simply a retreat to try another angle. Sure enough, a few seconds later, she returned to her attack.

“So. Out of bounds. Messing about with wild animals for a lark. And, of course, Hagrid knew where you were going.”

_Well, crap. There’s no escaping it, now._ “I have the Professor’s permission to be there, yes.”

“And so once more his judgement is in question,” she began quietly, slowly gathering pace and intensity. “Yet again, his laxity in allowing students to be in close proximity to vicious, untamed animals puts children in his supposed care at risk of harm.”

“I am not a child, Professor.”

“And this is why students cannot be permitted to handle such creatures! It’s only luck that you weren’t killed, and your continuing grudge against Mr. Warrington shows you in a very poor light. Perhaps, if one was being charitable, one could say you were confused from your injuries after he saved you from the hippogriffs.”

“Talk to Madam Pomfrey, she knows where my injuries came from, and it wasn’t from a hippogriff,” he growled.

Umbridge just waved a hand dismissively, “Pish and nonsense! There will be changes at Hogwarts, I can assure you, and the end of Care of Magical Creatures after O.W.L. level shall be one of them. The risks are far too high. Perhaps a review of the medical staff is also called for. Get out of my sight, Mr. Fielding, I shall decide on your punishment later.”

_You are a disgrace. You are the most loathsome, foul-minded bureaucratic-_

It wouldn’t do any good. He forced out a hard breath, and turned to go, only for her to land the inevitable dagger to the ribs when his hand touched the door handle.

“And as for the hippogriffs, the herd shall be secured and restrained until such time as they can be safely destroyed by the Ministry. There is no room for such creatures in a school!”

He swung around, aghast. “_What_?! Destroyed? _Why?!_ You can’t do that!”

“Do not presume to tell me what I can and can’t do, Mr. Fielding!” Her lip curled, pleasure and victory dancing in her malicious smile. “If nothing else, your Care of Magical Creatures class should have taught you better than to form an ill-judged emotional attachment to unthinking animals. Now, you are dismissed.”

“But-”

“I said, you are dismissed!”

Evan glared at her, hatred and rage and despair churning in his head, then whirled and stormed away. At the end of the corridor, he forced himself to stop and gather his wits, leaning back against the wall and trying to get a hold of the raging fury in his head. _It’s no good blindly rampaging around like an idiot. No doubt Warrington and his chums know where I’ve just been. Save it for later and try to be smart about this_. He took a few deep breaths and drew his wand, forcing himself to be alert to every shadow and movement on his way back to the common room. Perhaps it was instructive that the students he ran into on the way tended to blanch and hurry out of his path when they saw his face.

He stopped at the barrels and checked that his robes were together enough to hide the damage, then slipped inside and skirted through the mostly-empty common room. Presumably, people were still up in the Great Hall having dinner. His dorm was deserted, and he pulled off his robes and looked critically at them before balling them up with a sigh and lobbing them into a laundry bin. Perhaps the house-elves could do something, but he didn’t hold out a lot of hope. That done, he sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees, and tried to work out exactly what the hell to do next.

“Evan?”

Michelle was looking in on him, peering around the door frame anxiously. When he met her eyes, she bit her lip and stepped into the room, letting the door fall shut behind her.

“It’s all my fault, apparently,” he said, with a bitter smile. “Warrington nobly tried to save me from the dangerous animals. And so he gets away with it once again, and the hippogriffs are all to be killed!”

Her eyes widened, “_What_?! She just… and the hippogriffs?”

“Yeah. All my own fault. And that evil bitch will have them all killed, she told me. Merlin, Michelle, every time I think that she can’t get to me any more, she finds a way.”

“She… she can’t do that. Look, maybe if I warn Hagrid, tell him what she said, maybe he can get them away to somewhere safe?”

“And what, lose his job for it? She’s just desperate for an excuse to get rid of him, too, you know that as well as I do.”

Cautiously, she crept over to sit beside him and take his hand. “So what do we do?”

In his despair, he couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. “I don’t know. Oh God, Michelle, I don’t know what to do. Everything I touch seems to turn into an even bigger disaster than before.”

She said nothing, just shifted position to rub his back soothingly in silence. When he roused himself to look at her, he could see her cheeks were blotchy and her eyes red-rimmed, and immediately felt like a self-absorbed, selfish idiot. He put an arm around her and kissed her gently. “Hey. Are you all right?”

He felt her slowly relax against him. “Yeah. Just… you know.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t apologise for Umbridge, and don’t you dare apologise for Warrington!”

“I’m not, it’s just that here we are again, and I hate making you worry like this.”

“Evan…” she trailed off and shook her head in fond exasperation. “Of course I hate seeing you hurt, especially when someone’s done it deliberately, but none of this is in your control. You’re allowed to be upset about things too, you know.”

“I should have noticed when you came in.”

“You did notice, just now. And I’m hardly going to keel over if you have other things on your mind for a bit. They’re important, too.”

He let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what to do,” he repeated quietly. “Hagrid’s job is under threat just as much as the hippogriffs’ lives are, and if I tell him, I just know he’s going to do something insane. But if I don’t do something, then the hippogriffs…”

She took a deep breath and stood, holding out her hand. “Come on.”

He took her hand and looked at her enquiringly while she pulled him to his feet, then followed her out into the common room and over to the windows. He watched as she opened one window and latched it back, calling, “Rascal, I need you,” quietly. It was the thought and the bond more than her voice that would summon him, but Evan still felt a twinge of anxiety at hearing it out loud.

“What are you going to do?”

“We tell him. We have to, Evan, we’ve got no choice. Umbridge has already made up her mind about him, it’s just a matter of when, and it won’t be long. This might just give him a chance to save the hippogriffs somehow, but if we don’t do this, then that chance is gone.”

“You’re right.”

It felt strange to watch her take charge and be the decisive one when he hesitated. She quickly gathered up a leaf out of a discarded notebook and borrowed a quill from a studying third-year, then scribbled a note. Wordlessly, she showed it to him.

_ U. threatening to kill hippogriffs. Must get them to safety before she can act. _

_ You may also be in danger. Be very careful._

_ Burn after reading._

“Will that do?” she asked anxiously. “I didn’t put our names on it, but-”

“It’s fine. Let’s just hope it does some good.”

Rascal swooped through the open window on a soft flurry of wings, alighting on Michelle’s raised arm.

“Rascal! Pretty bird, you came!” She made a fuss of him for a minute, then held up her folded note. “I need you to take this to Hagrid for me, down in his cottage. Straight to Hagrid, understand? I know it’s only a short flight, but it’s really important.”

Rascal bobbed eagerly, then took the letter in his beak and sprang into the air. Together, they watched him go, sweeping low across the deserted lawns, his wings churning industriously until he was lost from sight. Michelle let out a shaky sigh, and he put a comforting arm around her.

“Where’s everyone else? Dinner?”

“Yeah. Or the Library, perhaps. Ravi’s got Divination on Friday.”

He took a deep, calming breath, and let it out again. “Have you eaten, yet?”

“No, not yet. I was waiting for you.”

“Do you think you could?”

She summoned a brave smile, “Well, perhaps we can try stress-eating some dessert.”

Rather than make their way to the Great Hall, where they could hear a sort of party underway from those who had finished exams, they ended up wangling a couple of trays direct from the house-elves and returning to their common room. Rascal was back again, perched on the window sill with a letter in his beak and eyeing everyone who came near him with suspicion until Michelle approached him, complimenting him profusely and feeding him little bits of chicken while he preened under her attention and praise. When he finally flew off to the Owlery, they set their trays down and turned to the letter. It was the same note that they had sent earlier, and on the back was Hagrid’s large, messy scrawl.

_ I’ll think of something._

_ Thank you. Stay safe. _

They looked at it in silence for a long moment, until Evan stood and carried it over to the window where he could hold it outside and touch it on fire with his wand. He turned it slowly in the growing flame to ensure it was fully consumed, then brushed it to ash and fragments against the stone, vanishing the tiny corner that remained unburnt. Silently, he retreated to his seat and forced himself to pick up his fork and eat. After a moment, Michelle did the same.

To his surprise, they both cleared their plates in short order. He was contemplating taking their dishes back to the kitchens when a group of fourth-years tumbled in, talking and laughing at the tops of their voices until they were shushed by the furious fifth-years still awaiting their Astronomy practical amidst a confused mountain of textbooks and astrolabes and star charts.

“It’s kind of hard to believe after everything that’s happened today that you still have Potions tomorrow,” he said reluctantly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He expected her to tense up and panic, but she simply smiled tentatively, her dark eyes hopeful. “You know, I could work myself into a lather about it, but like someone told me not that long ago, I know everything I need to know by now. It’s just a matter of keeping calm and doing what I know I can do, so your job tonight is to keep me calm and make me forget to stress about it.”

_That sounds good to me, too. Maybe we can help each other on that front. It does seem a little like hiding from our problems and pretending everything’s OK, but what else can we do? Otherwise, we’re just going to sit here in a collective, tense ball of misery until dawn, and that won’t help a thing._

He found a smile easily enough and pulled her closer. “I’ll see what I can do.”


	32. Umbridge's Downfall

He fell asleep easily enough in the end, being worn out from a long and stressful day, but his heart was racing when the alarm woke him the next morning, images he didn’t care to recall fading from his mind and dissolving into nothingness. He sat on the edge of his bed for a few moments and tried to pull himself together while the others coughed and scratched and bargained over who got the bathroom first.

His friends had made it back into the common room shortly before curfew the previous night in a buoyant mood, and he and Michelle had got a fair bit of stick for spending the whole afternoon and evening on their own, but Chris had caught their quiet and subdued mood and asked if they were all right. For a moment he considered telling them everything, but there was nothing they could do about it and Chris still had Potions to worry about, too. In the end he’d settled for, “It’s all right, I’ll explain tomorrow.” He was very grateful that Chris had simply looked at him thoughtfully but left it there.

He took the last turn with the bathroom, then dressed in one of his remaining uniforms and joined the others in the common room, emerging to find it was in uproar.

“-I swear, it’s true. We all saw it, right in the middle of the exam,” Justin Finch-Fletchley was saying loudly, only to be met with a blizzard of questions and raised voices once more from the large and growing scrum of students surrounding him. He was flanked by Ernie and Sue and Hannah and the other fifth-years, all trying to explain at once to dozens of different interrogators.

“What’s going on?” he asked the nearest person, a pale-faced Jasmin Singh.

Jasmin shook her head, quiet panic on her face. “He says that they saw Umbridge trying to sneak up on Hagrid late last night, during their Astronomy exam. She had a bunch of goons with her, and they started throwing curses around when Hagrid refused to go quietly.” She licked her lips and added, “Professor McGonagall came tearing out to stop them, and she got four Stunners right in the chest.”

“_Four?!_” He swore under his breath, his heart sinking. “She’s not exactly a spring chicken, either.”

“I know. They’ve taken her to St. Mungo’s, apparently, so it must be pretty bad.”

He swore a little louder. “What about Hagrid? Did he get away.”

“Legged it, he said. Grabbed his stupid dog and bolted into the night. Who knows where he went, but they didn’t get him.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and tried to force back the waves of panic and guilt rising up in his throat. “Well, that’s something, at least. Thanks, Jas.”

“Evan?” came an unsteady voice from behind him. He whirled and pulled her close, hugging her tightly. “You heard?”

“Just now,” he said hoarsely. “Merlin, Professor McGonagall’d better be all right.”

“It’s… it’s kind of hard, isn’t it?” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “Not to blame us, not to blame ourselves.”

He stroked her hair gently. “We knew Umbridge would do something, but Hagrid got away. Maybe we helped.”

“And maybe not.”

“Maybe not,” he agreed reluctantly. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “Isn’t it ridiculous that I feel guilty over something that’s Umbridge’s fault?”

“Yes, but I feel the same. I know it’s entirely her fault, really, but…”

“Yeah.”

Her arms slackened, and she straightened up to look him in the eye. “And then here we are, and life goes merrily on as normal. Mad, isn’t it?”

_Life goes on, and Hagrid is gone, and Professor McGonagall is hurt and gone, and I don’t even want to think about the hippogriffs… and you still have Potions._ “I guess it does. Did you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. I suppose we ought to get some breakfast in.”

They left the ongoing uproar behind them, only to find the Great Hall was in nearly as much turmoil. To his intense relief, there was no sign of Umbridge at the high table, and he and Michelle found a quiet spot at the Hufflepuff table, away from the tight, anxious knots of students talking in low voices with their heads bent together. Barely had they settled in than their friends dropped into the seats around them.

“Ya both know something about all this,” Mike said without preamble, sounding faintly accusative. “Something was up last night, now spill.”

“Easy, Mike,” Tammy said, putting a restraining hand on his arm.

Evan and Michelle exchanged a look and Evan sighed philosophically. “Warrington ambushed me out at the hippogriff paddocks yesterday after Transfig.,” he explained in a low voice, leaning forward over the table. “He cut me up and then seemed to think he could get the hippogriffs to eat me.”

“He _what?!_”

“I know. The hippogriffs went berserk, of course, and I only just kept them from killing him. He ran off, and Caroline helped me to get to Hagrid’s.” He sighed, and couldn’t resist a sideways glance to check on Michelle. “He got Madam Pomfrey to patch me up, but of course they had to go and track Warrington down, and that meant that Umbridge got involved. Later, she hauled me into her office and tried to make out it was all my fault, and it was clear that she was going to use it as an excuse to get rid of Hagrid.”

“She said she’d have the hippogriffs killed, too. We sent Hagrid a note to warn him, but we didn’t expect it to turn out like this,” Michelle finished for him.

Maxi swore viciously, and their angry voices rose around him until he held up his hands and cut across them.

“Guys. Guys! Trust me, I know how you feel.” He looked around the ring of furious, impatient faces, all desperate to do something, _anything_, that might help Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, or exact some sort of revenge on Umbridge, rather than just sit there impotently. “Let’s not go off at half-cock. And more importantly, Chris and Michelle have got Potions today. Let’s just help them get through that first, OK?”

“I notice you don’t mention that I still have Divination to go, too,” Ravi said, in a wan attempt at humour.

Becky snorted, and nudged his shoulder. “Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

That got some rather strained laughter, but it broke the worst of the tension. After breakfast, they retreated to the common room again, and Michelle went back to her dorm with the girls. In an effort to distract himself, Evan passed the time with Mike and Ravi, trying to distract Chris from the pre-exam tension. At nine o’clock, he walked Michelle and Chris upstairs. Trish was waiting in the Entrance Hall, and he and Michelle quietly left the Head Girl to pass on her own encouragement to their big friend.

“They seem really happy together,” Michelle said, grinning happily.

“Yeah. It’s great, isn’t it?”

Because of the small class size, the written Potions exam was to be held in a ground-floor classroom rather than the Great Hall. They stopped at the top of a corridor that was marked off by a sign that read ‘N.E.W.T. Potions - Examinees Only’ and turned to each other.

Michelle took a deep breath. “Well, here I go again.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her, then hugged her tightly. “You’re great at this,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re going to be fine.”

He heard another slow, steadying breath, and then she let him go, taking a reluctant step backwards. “See you at lunch?”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised. She retreated another step, her eyes locked on his, and mouthed, “Love you!” before turning lightly and setting off down the corridor. He watched her go until she turned into the classroom and out of sight, then turned away. Behind him, Chris and Trish had just finished exchanging final farewells of their own, and he was able to give Chris a slap on the back and wish him good luck on his way past. That left Evan and Trish looking at each other.

“All right, Trish?”

She gave him a happy, rather dazed, grin. “Brilliant. So, you two seem to be making up for lost time.”

He chuckled, “So do you and Chris. It’s really good to see you guys together.”

“Likewise, not least because it’s taken you absolutely forever.” She began to laugh as they set off back towards the Entrance Hall together, “Do you remember back in third year, when Professor Sinistra was telling Mike and Maxi off for being all lovey-dovey in class, and she used you two as an example? Oh Merlin, I have never seen _anyone_ blush as hard as Michelle did! And then she wouldn’t believe you when you denied it!”

He laughed, “Michelle couldn’t even talk to me for a week, after that.”

“I’m not surprised! You made it in the end, though, and that’s what counts.”

“Yeah, well, no-one’s had to discreetly lock us in a train compartment together, yet, so there’s that.”

That made her laugh again, “Believe me, we all thought about it, that’s all I’m saying.”

They walked a few paces in silence, his smile fading. “How are things in Gryffindor?” he asked quietly.

She grimaced, and stopped to face him. “Bad,” she said succinctly. “A few people were woken up by all the racket outside, anyway, and then the fifth-years burst in making a hell of a din about it. The ones that were asleep were quickly woken up by the ones that weren’t, and I think everyone knew in pretty short order. I just about had to block the stairs to stop a few of the hotheads from charging down and… I don’t even know what they thought they’d do. Cause chaos of some sort, I’m sure.”

“Is there any news on Professor McGonagall?”

“Not yet. Four Stunning Spells to the chest has got to mess anyone up, though. Madam Pomfrey said she’ll be all right, but it might take a while.”

“You know, you guys aren’t alone in wanting to do something about all this. I was thinking that maybe Lee has contacts on the outside, if you know what I mean.”

She bit her lip. “Well, maybe. Lee’s feeling pretty horrible at the moment, I think. You know that thing with the nifflers in Umbridge’s office? That was Lee. He didn’t think that of course she would assume it was Hagrid doing it.”

Evan muttered a curse. “Of course she bloody would. Well, anyway, if you guys get any bright ideas, there’s no shortage of help on offer in Hufflepuff.”

“Thanks, Evan. We should all meet up, anyway. The usual place, after lunch? I’ll tell Roger, and he can tell his lot.”

He left her at the foot of the stairs and strolled slowly back to the common room, not quite sure what to do next. Exams were over for him - _school _was over for him - and all that was left was to… what? Visiting the hippogriffs would be foolhardy in the extreme after the previous night. Read a book? He’d finished his last one. Listen to the wireless? People would still be studying. The next Hogsmeade trip wasn’t until Saturday, and although technically there was nothing to stop him now, he didn’t want to give Umbridge any more ammunition.

In the end, he sprawled on the lawn with his friends in the warming sun, talking at first of retribution against Umbridge, but it slowly turned to more general chat and reminiscences. After a long, lazy morning, he went back inside at midday to be sure he was there and waiting for Michelle.

She emerged with the others, a wide, bright-eyed smile on her face, and linked her arm happily through his without saying a thing. From her reaction, he didn’t need to ask how it had gone. Chris was looking more relieved than anything, and together, the three of them made their way to the Great Hall for lunch where their friends were waiting. Afterwards, they all walked Michelle and Chris down to the dungeons for the final leg of their exams.

“Well, this is it,” Michelle said, as she quickly pinned her hair up into a bun.

“Looks like it,” he agreed.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, just kiss!” Becky muttered impatiently, making them all laugh.

“I think you’d better,” Michelle said with mock-seriousness, her pretty eyes twinkling in the lamp light. “I think I’m starting to panic. Oh no.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

Their kiss was accompanied by cheers and wolf-whistles that made them both laugh too much to keep it up for long.

“Good luck,” he said softly.

“Thanks! See you later!”

“You know, I’m feeling rather left out after all that,” he heard Chris observe whimsically as the two of them set off for the Potions classroom, drawing another outburst of laughter from their friends.

Maxi hooked her arm through his and pretended to drag him away. “C’mon, lover-boy, ya can manage without the light o’ yer life for one afternoon!”

Ravi returned to the common room to resume studying for Divination, but the rest of them made for the disused classroom by Ravenclaw Tower to meet up with the other seventh-years. It was by no means a secret place, and was never intended to be, but after the second member of the Inquisitorial Squad_ just happened_ to wander oh-so-coincidentally by, they gave it up and headed back downstairs and outside into the bright, summer sunshine. Roaming the lawns, they gravitated away from the castle and down to the lakeside, where the light breeze picked up a bit of cool off the water, and they could talk without fear of being overheard.

The Gryffindors’ tempers had cooled to a simmer over the course of the morning, but they still huddled together, talking darkly of taking action against Umbridge - it was just that none of them could agree _what_. The Ravenclaws were taking a more pragmatic view, analysing the risks and rewards of getting involved with schemes against the hated headmistress and seemingly concluding that the most realistic way out was to grit their teeth and see out the remaining few days. Evan could see both sides of the argument but perhaps favoured the Gryffindor approach on the basis of preventing anyone else from going through a year like they had just suffered.

Such grim thoughts couldn’t take up all their time, though, and with the end of exams and the hot sun beating down on them, they began to lighten up. Evan found a quiet spot on the grass by the lake, where he could stretch out on his own and watch the others talking, sunbathing, or playing cards with a deck that Megs had in her pocket. Lee Jordan stripped off his robes and transfigured his trousers into swimming trunks, then took a running jump into the lake. Kenny, Jason, and Grant weren’t far behind him, starting a water fight and dodging the giant squid’s arms when it came to investigate.

“I don’t think the squid’s too pleased at the invasion,” said a familiar voice. He tilted his head to see Becky standing awkwardly next to him. He sat up and tried for a polite smile, and indicated a spot next to him. She didn’t sit, but took a step closer.

“I don’t think it minds all that much, and it’ll keep the merpeople and the grindylows away. How are you doing, Becky?”

She shrugged and looked out over the lake, where the squid hoisted Jason up by one long tentacle around the ankle and dropped him into deeper water with a tremendous splash. Jason surfaced, grinning, and the squid towed him back towards the shore again.

“It’s good to see you around more, again,” he tried.

“I’m sorry, all right?” she muttered in a low, gruff voice. “I just… ugh!”

He looked up at her in silence for a moment while she twisted uncomfortably on the spot and stared pointedly off into the distance, her jaw jutting, and wondered where to start. “You were angry because I hurt Michelle. You’re right, I did. There’s more to it, of course, but that’s what it came down to. It’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

“That whole thing. It just made me so angry, everything about it. And Michelle was devastated.”

He heard a quiet sigh, and she sank down beside him. He took it as a hopeful sign.

“I guess I’m used to being protective of her,” she continued. “She’s always been sort of meek and quiet, and it was easy to assume that she just went along with whatever. Later, when I actually thought about it a bit - when she pulled me up on it - I realised that she’s changed a lot this year. A _lot_.”

“She’s always had it in her, it’s just more visible now that she’s more confident in herself.”

Becky shrugged in acknowledgement. “So I guess you’ve been good for her.”

“It’s nothing to do with me, that’s all her.” He tried a cautious smile, “Although this is where I make you puke by saying how proud of her I am.”

She grinned, and turned to look at him properly for the first time. “And now you’ve finally got together and… wow, it really is the real thing, isn’t it? I mean, everyone was trying to get you together for so long it almost became a joke, but now look at you. She’s so happy - shouldn’t I be happy for her, too?”

“You can be happy for her, but that doesn’t mean you have to like me.” He took a deep breath, “Becky, you’ve been one of my best mates for seven years. I know I screwed things up, but I’ve been trying to fix it, and I’d like to get back to that if I can.”

Becky swallowed, a brief tremor in her chin. “Me, too. Friends?”

“Friends.”

With that, the ice was broken, and they talked more over the following hour than they had in weeks. He’d missed her spiky humour and sharp observations, and when first Maxi and then Tammy joined them, sensing that there’d been a rapprochement, it truly did start to feel like old times again. Lee and Kenny dripped over to see them, shivering from the cold of the lake, and threw themselves down in the sun. It would have been an idyllic way to pass a glorious early-summer afternoon if Evan wasn’t constantly looking at his watch, much to the others’ amusement.

His impatience won out at five, and he tried not to hurry on his way back to the Entrance Hall, a knot of anticipation in his stomach. All there was to do was to find a spot on the wall in sight of the stairs from the dungeons and… wait. And wait, and wait, and w-

The door from the Great Hall crashed open, making him jump, and a student half-fell, and was half-carried, out by one of the examiners. Professor Tofty clucked around the boy while he muttered semi-coherent and unconvincing reassurances and tried to pull himself together. _Bloody hell, it’s Potter!_ Whatever he said, as soon as Professor Tofty shuffled back into the Great Hall, Potter was off like a scalded cat into the castle and up the stairs. _What the hell was all that about, I wonder?_

Settling back against the wall, he resumed his wait and let his heart rate subside. Some minutes later, the doors to the Great Hall opened again, and a crowd of relieved-looking fifth-years flooded out, talking in that familiar, half-dazed, post-exam euphoria as they made for their common rooms. A few of the Hufflepuffs said Hi or waved, but it was clear they were all desperate to get as far away from their History of Magic exam as fast as possible and start celebrating. It only heightened the anticipation gnawing at him, because if their exam was over, that meant that Michelle must be done, too.

And then, there she was.

She was wearing that familiar look of relief and elation the fifth-years had been wearing, too, and it was strong enough to overpower the post-exam fatigue. She looked exhausted and rumpled and sweaty and absolutely beautiful.

She stopped in front of him with a playful smile on her lips. “Hi there,” she said softly.

“Hello.”

Her impish grin broadened. “You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

_Oh, you want to have fun?_ “Yeah, I am. It’s my friend, Chris. Have you seen him?” he replied, trying to hide a smile of his own.

She pretended to think. “I _think_ he’s around somewhere, yeah.”

In fact, Chris was just behind her, and trying to sneak sheepishly past so as not to interrupt them.

“Oh, right. D’you want to keep me company while I wait?”

She looked him up and down and waved a hand dismissively. “Pfft! You should be so lucky! And just wait until my boyfriend finds out that you’ve been trying it on with me.”

He had to stifle a laugh, “Oh yeah, _big _mistake. He’s mean.”

“Awful,” she agreed, glancing back over her shoulder. “Hi, Chris!”

He turned with a rather embarrassed smile. “Hi, you two.”

Evan raised a hand in greeting, “Hello, mate! Glad that’s over with?”

Chris laughed, “Yeah, just a bit! Anyway, um, I’m going back to the common room. Are you coming?”

Evan looked at Michelle and raised an eyebrow.

“I’d love to get outside and get some fresh air for a bit, actually,” she said, looking longingly outside.

“We’ll see you later, Chris.”

He let her take the lead, walking slowly down towards the greenhouses and then over towards the Quidditch stadium. She found a seat on the grass well away from anyone else, and he heard her take deep, cleansing breaths while he kept quietly out of her way. After a few minutes, she turned her head to look for him, and he couldn’t resist a sympathetic smile.

“Feeling any better?”

She opened her mouth to reply, then paused and closed it again. “I don’t know how I feel,” she said eventually, her voice low and tired. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? I think most of me is just so relieved that exams are over, but there’s a part of me that can’t help but asking, what’s next? In a week’s time, we’ll all be heading into the Great Hall for the leaving feast, and then the next morning it’s back on the train, and that’s it. And then… we all just go our separate ways?”

She glanced fearfully up at him, and he could read the unspoken end of that thought. _Maybe even you and I_.

It was something that had occupied his thoughts for weeks, too. No matter how much he’d yearned after her, now that he and Michelle were finally together, it seemed obscene to contemplate just swanning off overseas and leaving her behind. _But she has a life and a family, too. If I want to be part of her life, then I’m going to have to make a choice. I can’t expect her to sacrifice her life and whatever she wants for us to be together. I have to meet her halfway on this_.

“I need to talk to Mum,” he said at last, trying to suppress a shiver. “I get the impression from some of her letters that she’s warming up to the idea of moving to Canada whatever happens. It’s a chance for a fresh start for her, and a chance to do and see new things. I can’t begrudge her that.” He moved to sit beside her and put his hand on hers between them. “The question is whether I go with her. I could stay here. I have a pretty strong reason, after all.”

She blushed, and gave him a shaky smile. “You might be sick of me after a month.”

“You think?” he said quietly, not joining in her fragile levity.

She swallowed and looked down at her feet, her smile vanishing. “No. I can’t ever imagine that.”

He let out a slow sigh, the now-familiar, sick feeling bubbling up despite his best efforts to suppress it. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve been avoiding it until now. N.E.W.T.s and school and everything seemed to be enough to be going on with, you know?”

“You’re right, and you can’t just focus on the future and lose track of the here-and-now. I know you and Rachael need to talk, and I get that, so I’ll just have to be patient.”

“I can’t promise what will happen in the future. But you’re incredibly important to me, and I promise that you’ll be in the front of my mind,” he said, feeling the total inadequacy of his words.

“Well, until then, we shouldn’t let it overshadow everything else.” She gave him a smile, kind and warm, and turned her hand over to lace her fingers through his. “We really ought to go and celebrate with the others. I’d say we’ve earned it.”

“I suppose we have.” He let out a huff of amusement, and shook his head, “I think I’ve sort of lost track of that after yesterday and everything that happened.”

“There was an awful lot that happened after Transfig., you’re right. But you’re done, now, just like I am. And _completely_ unlike I was, you made it all look so easy and stress free. I don’t know how you did it!”

He laughed, “What gives you that idea? I was absolutely bricking it by the time Charms came around!”

She gaped at him in disbelief, “_What?!_ You never even slightly looked like it! I was so envious!”

“I knew panicking wasn’t going to help anything, but knowing it and feeling it are two different things entirely.” He shrugged, “What does Ravi say? If you’ve got it, flaunt it, if you haven’t, fake it?”

“Then you fake it disturbingly well, because if you weren’t so calm and encouraging, I’m sure I’d have made Hannah Abbott’s little pre-exams meltdown look like a momentary wobble!”

He grinned at her, “See? I knew you could do it, even if you didn’t. And believe me, if it helped you, it sure as heck helped me!”

She laughed and got to her feet, holding out her hands to pull him upright as well. “Whatever it was, it worked. Now, lets go and join the party!”

The mood back in the common room was a strange one, about three-quarters jubilation and one-quarter irritation from those who still had an exam to go. Evan and Michelle were greeted with loud cheers - and not a few wolf-whistles and jokey comments - while the unlucky ones plugged their ears with their fingers, scowled down at their textbooks, and swore under their breath in exasperation. Ravi was one of the unfortunate few, crammed in a desk by the empty fireplace.

“No, no, celebrate all you want,” he sulked dramatically. “I’ll just be over here in the corner, working my fingers to a nubbin. You bastards.”

“Sorry, Ravi!” came the chorus from their friends, clustered together with the fifth- and sixth-years, all lazing on chairs and sofas pulled together into a loose circle so that they could talk.

Maxi glanced at her watch, and climbed to her feet. “C’mon, everyone, let’s give the lad some peace and get ourselves up to dinner.”

There was a general chorus of agreement, and the others followed suit, ambling for the entrance and the stairs in an unhurried fashion and talking all the while. Michelle fell in with Tammy, who started bombarding her with questions about how her Potions exam had gone, but before he joined them, Evan looked back at Ravi in time to see Mike ruffling his hair on the way past.

“Yeah, we’ll leave him to his sufferin’, shall we?”

Ravi glared at him, and Becky gave Mike a shove along. “Never mind that, you!” she flared, before turning to Ravi. “Come on, Ravi, come with us. Have a break for a few minutes, it’ll do you good.”

He sighed, smoothing down his mussed hair with a tired hand. “I can’t, Becky, I’ve still got-”

“Do I have to threaten you?” she demanded, brandishing her wand, but the grin on her face gave her away.

That got a smile out of him in return. “Oh, go on, you know I love it when you’re all bossy and demanding.”

She made a disgusted noise and turned away, “You’re lucky I don’t hex you for that, Singh!”

Evan grinned to himself and watched the two bicker their way up to the Great Hall. Strictly speaking, dinner wasn’t an official end-of-exams party. There was no such thing, not even on Friday when the very last exams would be complete, but so many students from all years had already finished that it was the next best thing. The hall was buzzing with loud voices and laughter and good cheer, accompanied by the busy clink of cutlery on china as they demolished another fine meal. Ravi and Becky continued to argue all the way through, exchanging jokey threats and barbed comments, egged on by their friends. Neither of them meant their biting words, of course, it was just two old friends who knew each other so well pushing each others’ buttons for a laugh. Two friends who would go their separate ways in just over a week.

He shook himself mentally. If ever there was a time to live in the moment and just enjoy it and the company of his best mates, it was now. Any gloomy thoughts of the future could wait.

* * * * *

Friday morning.

Freedom.

Michelle woke a little later than usual, but buzzed around getting ready for the day with perhaps more energy than was strictly necessary given that there were no more exams, no more classes, and, in fact, nothing to blot her schedule before the weekend at all. Around her, the girls were taking advantage of the same situation to have a lie in and catch up on their sleep, so she moved eagerly to the common room. _He’ll be there_.

He _was_ there, freshly-shaved and dressed and looking altogether too handsome for her own good as he sat in an armchair under one of the windows, quizzing a rumpled-looking Ravi out of a book while light and birdsong flooded through the open window on a light, fitful breeze. She padded quietly up behind them on bare feet, and slid her hand onto his shoulder while she hitched one leg up to sit on the arm of his chair. He turned to look up at her with a welcoming smile that probably ought to be illegal, and she gazed happily into his eyes, squeezing his shoulder gently.

She did remember to drag her attention away for long enough to greet their friend. _I’m getting better at this._ “Morning, Ravi!”

“Morning, mate,” Ravi said with a yawn, running his hands through his hair. “You’re looking disgustingly chipper for this time of day.”

She grinned, and avoided the implicit question. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Carry on, you two.”

She felt Evan shift his weight slightly, turning a page and resting his free hand on her knee. “Taking the azimuth of Polaris above the horizon and adjusting for the influence of Jupiter…”

The suppressed giggling coming from the couch off to her left wasn’t entirely due to the contents of _Witch Weekly_ that Tatiana and Belinda were reading, and she had to smile sheepishly when she saw them watching her. Tati did pass her a copy to keep her occupied, however.

_10 Secret Makeup Tips to Enchant Your Wizard_ was having trouble holding her attention - not least because she knew at least six of them already - but he had also started absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb up and down on her knee. It was slow and soothing and disturbingly erotic all at once, and all the more infuriating because she knew he didn’t realise he was doing it. The _Stop-that-before-I-do-something-embarrassing_ part of her was really struggling to keep the _Take-me-somewhere-quiet-and-show-me-what-you-can-do-when-you-really-mean-it_ part in line, with the net result that she stayed perfectly still and quiet, and failed to take in a single one of the _Twenty Ultimate Signs You’re In Love_.

The girls emerged about half an hour later to save her from her sweet torture, coming over to say good morning and try to cheer Ravi up.

“Still tryin’ ter ram that last little bit into yer head, eh, Ravi?” Maxi said, with a kind smile. “It’s too late for that now, come an’ have a good breakfast. There’s no point in studying if yer faintin’ away halfway through.”

“Yeah, and you ought to know all the questions already, or what sort of Divination student are you?” Becky said cheekily, mussing his hair. “Maybe that’s the test, you walk in there and they say, ‘So, what are the questions to the Divination exam?’”

Ravi swatted her hand away and glared balefully at her. “That’s powerful magic, that is. It requires sacrificing a maiden. Preferably an annoying, short-arsed, blonde one. Are you volunteering?”

“Tammy, you’re up!” she laughed, ducking behind her fellow blonde.

Tammy turned with a grin, putting her hands under Becky’s arms and lifting her back around. “Nah, I’m only one out of three. Looks like it’s going to be you.”

“Hey! Put me down!”

“Get her legs, Maxi, we’re off to sacrifice a virgin to Ravi’s success!” Tammy said cheerfully.

Maxi bent down and grabbed Becky’s ankles, and together, they carried her out of the common room while she shrieked in outrage. “Argh! What are…! No! _Put me down, you absolute weirdos!_

“Now, now, stop struggling an’ it’ll go easier for ya,” Maxi said firmly, applying a leg-locker jinx to stop her thrashing about. “Someone get the door.”

“_Stop it, right now! I will _end_ you! I swear, I will come back and haunt you crazy bitches forever!_”

Tati and Belinda raced past as Becky’s screams and threats echoed down the corridor. “Sorry, we’ve got to see this!” Several others followed them, chattering and laughing over their elders’ antics.

“Well, Ravi, it looks like your success is assured,” Michelle said, once she had the worst of her laughter under control again.

“Never in doubt,” he replied, smoothing down his hair and flipping his notes shut. “Ah, I suppose Maxi’s right, too, I _am_ pretty hungry.”

Evan squeezed her knee gently and stood up, and her skin tingled without the warmth of his hand. “Should we wait for Mike and Chris?”

“Let them sleep, they’ll be up when they’re ready.”

“I’ll just grab my shoes,” said Michelle, but barely had she stood up when the entrance to the common room crashed open and Roger Stebbins stumbled in, panting like he’d run a race but with a huge, elated grin. “Dumbledore’s back!”

There was a momentary, shocked silence, and then everyone began talking at once.

“I swear, I saw him just now,” Roger continued over the din. “He came down from the stairs and went outside, like he’d been in his office all along. No, it really was him, he tipped his hat and walked right past me! Others saw, too, Dumbledore really is back!”

Michelle closed her hanging jaw and turned to the boys, who looked almost as surprised as she felt. “He’s making that up, isn’t he? Some sort of end-of-year joke?”

“You know, I don’t think he is,” said Ravi, still in a state of shock. “Blimey, Dumbledore back again! Brilliant!”

“That must mean Umbridge has been sacked, or replaced, or who knows,” Evan said, in a voice she almost missed in the ongoing tumult. “Merlin, I’d never have picked that.”

“Me, either,” said Michelle. She blinked, “I’ll be back in a second, we have to go and tell the others!”

She sprinted into her dorm and quickly hauled on some socks, jamming her feet into her shoes on the way out. To her relief, they were still waiting for her, and set off once they saw her emerge again. She intercepted them at the door, while behind them, Roger continued to tell anyone that would listen the good news.

“-had that look on his face like everything’s fine, but you could just feel that you _did _not want to get in his way…”

The news was spreading in the Great Hall, too, with questions and exclamations and speculation flying around at near-deafening volume. They found Maxi and Tammy at the Hufflepuff table while Becky sat, unharmed and unsacrificed, one seat away from them with a thunderous expression. Ravi took the chair between her and Tammy, and gave her a smile, nudging her shoulder, while Michelle and Evan took seats opposite them.

“You’ve heard, then?” Tammy said without preamble, nearly having to shout to be heard.

“Yeah, Roger came in with the story just now,” she replied.

“Maybe he’s just had enough and decided not to take any more of Fudge’s crap,” said Ravi, reaching for a platter of bacon before offering it to Becky, then passing it along to the others.

“Well, _something_ must have happened,” Tammy pointed out, pouring tea for everyone. “I mean, this couldn’t have happened if Umbridge is still here, so where is she? What happened overnight?”

“I’d like ter think ol’ McGonagall got up off her sickbed and hexed the stupid cow six ways ter Sunday,” Maxi said cheerfully. “The Curse strikes again! A wee bit late ter save our Defence marks, mind, but it did the business in the end.”

They continued to debate it over breakfast. Mike and Chris joined them at last, talking of nothing but Dumbledore’s return like all the other students, but she couldn’t help but notice that Evan was quiet and rather tense. No doubt he was worried what this latest sudden change might mean for them, for Hogwarts, for Hagrid, for the hippogriffs, for the future. _He takes too much on himself, and worries about too many things_.

Ravi was the first to get to his feet. “I suppose we ought to get out of here and let them get it ready for exams,” he said reluctantly. The noise had finally died down enough that they could all hear him, and they followed his lead with a general murmur of agreement. The Entrance Hall was packed with students, all either about to go outside or waiting to see what else was going to happen, and they had to push through them to get over to the stairs down to the common room. Ravi ducked into his dorm to grab whatever he needed for the exam, and then they whiled away the remaining minutes talking very deliberately of Quidditch and holidays and nothing very much until it was time to send him back upstairs with their best wishes.

When the common room door swung shut behind him, that left the others looking at each other with varying degrees of trepidation and excitement. “Well, what now?,” said Maxi. “There must be somethin’ in the news, after all the fuss they bin makin’ about Dumbledore all year.”

“There was nothing in the _Daily Prophet_,” Chris pointed out. “Whatever it was, it must have been sudden and rather unplanned, or they’d have been all set up to run something and tell everyone. They haven’t been shy about doing that for anything else, this year.”

She nodded sharply, “The wireless ‘tis, then. Tammy, go an’ bring yers out for us?”

That left nearly forty minutes to kill until the next bulletin, and it was difficult to concentrate on anything, especially with everyone around them speculating on Umbridge’s fate with a worrying degree of cheerful enthusiasm. Rather than listen in the common room, they piled into the boys’ dorm where they could be sure they wouldn’t be interrupted, and Tammy tuned in a few minutes before the hour to ensure they didn’t miss the news.

“_Staff and officials at the Ministry of Magic arrived at work this morning to discover that a serious incident has taken place overnight. There are reports of major damage to the Atrium area, and also the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Unconfirmed rumours claim that the damage stretches much further into the building, possibly as far as the lowest levels. The nature of the incident has not been disclosed, however there are multiple reports of a pitched battle involving Aurors and security staff fighting off a number of attackers dressed in black robes. Officials have refused to comment on speculation that this attempted incursion may have been related to the break-out of a number of You-Know-Who’s former followers from Azkaban shortly after Christmas._

_The Ministry has requested that all non-essential staff and members of the public avoid the building today to permit repairs to be carried out. A further statement on the situation will be given by the Minister for Magic at six o’clock tonight_.”

The announcer moved on to the upcoming election in Bulgaria, and Maxi flicked the wireless off, leaving them to look at each other in silence.

“So, do we assume from that that Fudge has panicked?” said Mike thoughtfully. “He thought the Ministry was totally safe, an’ then what d’ya know, it isn’t?”

“Aye, an’ panicked pretty badly to go crawlin’ to Dumbledore after all the nonsense this past year,” Maxi snorted cynically. “I bet Dumbledore’s price was gettin’ rid of Umbridge, or part of his price, anyway.”

“I suppose it must have been that lot that escaped from Azkaban,” said Chris. “They’ve been keeping a low profile, and what better way to shake things up than something like this?”

Tammy shrugged and picked up her wireless, heading for the door. “It’s worked if Fudge is in this much of a funk - not that I’m complaining if it means the end of Umbridge.”

The others followed her in ones and twos, with a resounding chorus of, “Hear, hear!”

Michelle wasn’t so sure. It seemed like there had to be more to it for Fudge to go running back to Dumbledore - and especially, for Dumbledore to accept it. By the look on his face, she didn’t need to be a genius to know that Evan was thinking the same things. After a long moment lost in thought, she heard a sharp intake of breath through his nose, and he blinked several times before summoning a smile and turning to her.

“So, what do you have planned for today?”

“I was going to meet up with Alicia and Vinu and the girls after lunch. You?”

She took his hand, and they ambled back towards the common room. “Girls’ day in again, huh? Well, have fun! I’m not really sure what I’m going to do. Part of me wants to go and check on the hippogriffs, but I’m not sure that’s a great idea right now, what with everything that’s been going on. I might just blob out in the common room with a book.”

“At least get yourself outside!” she huffed. “It’s far too nice out to waste it just sitting around in here!”

The others were going their separate ways, and she and Evan ended up having a long, leisurely walk across the lawns before running into Professor Sprout doing some tidying-up in the greenhouses. She was in a very cheerful mood, and gladly accepted some helping hands, but at the first hint of a question regarding Umbridge or Dumbledore, she quickly became very guarded, and they let the subjects drop.

They were on their way back up to the castle at noon when they caught the reaction from people around them, and turned to see two figures emerging from the Forbidden Forest. The first was tall and thin, dressed in natty blue robes with his long, white beard tucked into his belt and looking for all the world like he’d been out for a stroll just like they had. The second figure, staggering and half-carried by the first, was short and squat, her pink robes smeared with dirt and leaves, and her mousy hair in wild disarray. Silence swept across the grounds, all eyes on Dumbledore and Umbridge. As the two got closer, they could see Umbridge’s eyes were fixed and glassy, a look of horror and revulsion on her broad, flabby face, while Dumbledore's expression was carefully neutral. It was only once they had mounted the steps to the Entrance Hall and vanished inside the castle that the hum of voices broke out again, quickly growing louder and louder.

She heard Evan clear his throat. “Well. I think that just blew a rather large hole in most people’s theories.”

She could only shake her head mutely in response.

Inside the castle was uproar, with irritated proctors bursting out from the Great Hall to demand quiet, and when that failed, casting a blizzard of muffling spells in all directions. They retreated to the Hufflepuff common room where the commotion was, if anything, even louder, everyone talking across each other at the tops of their voices. Rumours and theories and suppositions flew, each more outlandish than the last, but the only facts on offer were that Dumbledore had led Umbridge to the hospital wing and disappeared inside. Its doors were firmly locked, with a sign that only those needing urgent treatment should use the bell pull beside the doors.

Ravi looked quite bewildered at emerging into such chaos, but they brought him up to speed over lunch. In return, Divination was going well, and he was optimistic about the afternoon’s practical. They did their best to keep the conversation cheerful and encouraging, and packed him off for the last leg of his education with a smile on his face, and then Michelle found herself grabbed by her friends and swept off to the prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor for probably the final time. The rest of the seventh-year girls from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were already there, and they had somehow persuaded the house-elves to provide drinks and snacks, and with someone’s wireless pumping and the loud chatter of voices and laughter, it was quite a party. There was quite a lot of talk about holidays and the following day’s Hogsmeade visit - and the thrilling, terrifying prospect of finding the next steps in their lives - but Dumbledore’s sudden return featured heavily as well.

“-And what a bloody co-incidence, Harry and his mates suddenly disappear and Dumbledore immediately pops back out of the woodwork again,” Alicia was saying.

Michelle frowned in confusion. “Potter? But-”

Alicia rolled her eyes, “Do you know any other Harrys, especially Dumbledore’s favourites that keep finding ways to get into trouble? He ran off somewhere last night with a bee in his bonnet, and dragged Hermione and Ron and Ginny with him, too. And Neville Longbottom, for some reason. Anyway, they seem to have vanished again - and, until this morning, Umbridge had, too. It’s all got to be related somehow.”

The others chipped in with theories and suggestions ranging from the convoluted to the ridiculous, and eventually Michelle stole away to a quieter corner with Vinu where she could just relax and soak in the pleasant heat of the huge, pool-like bath. She was careful not to relax too much, because she had to be alert to thwart Angelina’s sneaky efforts to turn her hair pink. She’d already got Trish, whose mass of curls was now a fiery, Gryffindor red, and Tammy’s long, blonde mane had deepened to Hufflepuff yellow without her noticing. _Then again, it’s Tammy. She may just not care - or she might actually like it!_

As much as she would have loved to have stayed all night, they dragged themselves away as the afternoon turned to evening, promising to meet up in Hogsmeade the following day. Back in the common room, they found Ravi had already returned from Divination, and he was surrounded by Evan and the boys, and a few of their other friends.

Tammy thumped him on the back, grinning widely. “Hey, congratulations! How does it feel to have school done and dusted?”

Ravi laughed, and winked at her. “Absolutely brilliant! Seven years of suffering is now behind me, and the world awaits! Paris, New York, London… maybe even Coventry.”

“I take it the exam went all right, then?” Michelle asked him. She caught Evan’s eye and gave him a little wave, mouthing ‘Hi’, and he smiled back at her.

“Of course-” Ravi began, only to be overridden by Gwion’s dreamy-voiced impression of Professor Trelawney.

“It was written in the stars, my dear, and the lucent cosmic rays flying out of my arse…”

The room dissolved into laughter, not least because it was so unexpected coming from Gwion, and Ravi laughed just as much as any of them.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but my arse beams are telling me that it’s time to get ourselves to the Great Hall for dinner and a bloody good party!”

“Give us two minutes, an’ we’ll be with ya,” Maxi promised.

They hurried into their dorms to dump their stuff and have a quick, final straighten up. Michelle had to charm her hair into submission to get rid of the frizz, then quickly combed it out before they hurried back out to the common room. She gravitated towards Evan, and gave him a quick, gentle kiss that he returned with equal fervour. Rather than take her hand, he put his arm around her and turned to Tammy, who was just retying her shoelace.

“Sorry, Tammy, you sort of shot off before I could ask, but could I borrow your wireless?”

She looked up at him in surprise before straightening up. “What, now? Yeah, I suppose.”  
  


“I want to listen to the news,” he explained. “The Ministry was supposed to have more on the whole Dumbledore thing at six.”

“Oh, come on, it can wait until after dinner, can’t it?”

“Yeah, you’re taking this too seriously, Evan,” said Becky. “It’ll just be Fudge’s usual blethering about how wonderful he is and that he has everything under complete control. _Complete _control, ignore the elephant crapping in the corner.”

He shrugged, “You guys don’t have to stay, but I’d still like to listen.”

Michelle was rather curious herself, but like the others, not curious enough that she couldn’t wait until after dinner. She looked around her friends, who were variously dubious, impatient, and curious, until Maxi took charge.

“What’s the time? Oh, sod it, I suppose we might as well, it’s only a few minutes. Anyone else coming?”

In the end, they all did, albeit with some mumbling and grumbling about being late for dinner. They congregated in the boys’ dorm once more, and Tammy set up her wireless again and turned it on just in time for the main bulletin on the hour.

“_This is the WWN. Here is the six o’clock news, and this is Alvar Lidell reading it. In a brief statement given minutes ago by Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, it was confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named has returned to this country and was involved in the battle at the Ministry last night that caused widespread damage to the building. The news constitutes a major embarrassment for both Minister Fudge and the Ministry itself. As recently as Wednesday, both were continuing to provide assurances that rumours of You-Know-Who’s return were ill-founded and incorrect. Instead, Minister Fudge has been forced to admit that he himself had personally recognised the much-feared dark wizard during the attack_.”

There was a subtle change in tone, as if they had gone from a cosy studio to a much larger chamber. Fudge’s voice rang out, tired and uneven.

“_I’m very sorry to say that there can be no doubt. H-he was clearly identified by a number of witnesses, including n-numerous Aurors. And m-m-myself._”

The newsreader resumed, “_One of Minister Fudge’s first acts in responding to this crisis has been to recall Albus Dumbledore to the position of Headmaster at Hogwarts. Dumbledore, who was one of the few to consistently warn of You-Know-Who’s return over the last twelve months, was also reinstated as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot at an emergency session.._.”

The news reader’s voice, dulcet and smooth, wound on, talking of dementor revolt at Azkaban and criticism flying across the Wizengamot, but they could only stare at each other in shocked silence. Michelle could feel an awful, yawning chasm of pure fear in her stomach, and tried to fight off the sudden, rising grip of panic.

Finally, Tammy reached out a shaking hand and turned it off.

Silence.

“Well,” said Maxi hoarsely, after a long moment. “Well, shit.”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

“Bit of an understatement, really.”

The limp attempts at humour were automatic, feeble reactions of self-defence because the alternative was, was… what? _Breathe. Come on, breathe, you have to get a grip. He’s not just going to burst in here and start throwing curses._

Evan blew out a slow, shaking breath. “So maybe Potter wasn’t making it up after all,” he said quietly.

“Maybe not.”

Ravi was the first to recover. “Well. Well, bollocks to You-Know-Who, he’s not coming anywhere near Hogwarts while Dumbledore’s here, and I’m damned if I’ll let him ruin the mood tonight, either.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he was always scared of Dumbledore,” Chris said, although it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than through any great personal conviction.

“Let’s put it ter one side fer now, anyways. There’s a party ter be had, an’ we’ve bloody well earned it,” Mike said rousingly. “Come on, everyone!”

Michelle found herself swept along with the others, although she was pretty sure she didn’t want to be. The Great Hall was the last place she would have chosen, just then. Food? She wanted to be sick. Instead, her trembling legs carried her along to the Entrance Hall, but when she reached for a reassuring, steady hand - it wasn’t there. She stopped and looked around, but there was no sign of him.

Mike stopped in the door and looked back at her. “All right, Michelle?”

“Have you seen Evan?”

Mike frowned slightly, looking around in confusion. “He was here a second ago.”

_He probably feels like I do - or worse, knowing him_. “Never mind.”

She took a deep breath and plunged into the bustling wall of noise that was the Great Hall. Dumbledore was at the high table, smiling serenely down as if he’d never been away, but the celebratory atmosphere left her absolutely cold, even when Maxi and Becky started charming the seventh-years’ hair into Hufflepuff colours, black or yellow, to match Tammy’s. She ate… well, she wasn't quite sure. Something that left no memory, no impression. _You-Know-Who is back again. Just like Harry Potter had said, just like Dumbledore had said. You-Know-Who is back, and the Ministry couldn’t be less prepared if it had tried - and now, we’re going to leave Hogwarts and be right out there in the open. Like our friends. Like our families._

She forced herself to clear her plate, then pushed it away and stood up.

“Are you OK, Michelle?” Becky asked in concern.

“I’m just going to pop to the loo,” she mumbled.

It was a relief to slip away from the noise and be on her own. After a quick pitstop, rather than rejoin her friends, she crossed the Entrance Hall and down the steps onto the lawn. She found him where she’d expected, sitting on the old log under their willow by the lake. He didn’t turn, but knew it was her all the same.

“I wondered if you’d find me.”

She didn’t say anything, just went to sit beside him. Instead, he pulled her into his lap and held her tight, his chin resting on the top of her head. She closed her eyes, one hand on his chest and the other wrapped firmly around his back, and just listened to him breathe, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

“Does it seem wrong to you?” he said suddenly, his voice gruff. “Everyone just stops for a second, then carries on like nothing’s happened, like it’s all normal. Pass the broccoli. The Cannons lost again. You-Know-Who is back. Have another potato.”

“Well, yes - but what should they be doing?” she asked softly, opening her eyes. It seemed incongruous to watch the bright sunlight dance on the water, and speak of darkness.

“I don’t know. Not letting it dictate their lives, probably, but…” He swallowed, and she could feel him tremble. “I can’t help thinking of Cedric. I can’t help but think of that bloody article in the Quibbler.” She heard him suck in a wet, shaky breath, and he mumbled, “God, I thought I was past all this.”

His distress wrenched at her heart, and she was trying not to well up herself. She sat back, gently wiping his tear-streaked face with her thumb, and kissed him lightly before pulling him close again, their chins on each other’s shoulders this time. “I miss him, too, my love,” she whispered.

“The poor bastard, he never stood a chance, did he? As smart as he was, as good as he was with a wand, bloody You-Know-Who. Merlin!”

She shut her eyes briefly, thoughts of their lost friend passing through her mind. His self-deprecating smile, his intense, serious look when studying, his easy grace on a broom. The diplomat, the scholar, the warrior, and above all, the kind and steadfast friend in all seasons. Cedric was lost, and it was hard not to feel lost, too. Cedric was lost, but Evan was still there, her anchor and her love. She could feel the truth of what it meant to be those things for him, in turn. _And he would never trust anyone else like this_.

He kissed her, and she slid off his lap to take a seat beside him, and together, they watched the sun setting over the lake in silence.


	33. The Last Days

The following morning was almost surreal. News of You-Know-Who’s return had clearly reached a few people the previous evening, but they had kept mostly to themselves so as not to kill off the huge party that started in the Great Hall at dinner and continued in the common rooms. The next morning, however, there was no such restraint, and the news spread and grew, slowly at first, but it rapidly gathered pace. Some greeted it with confusion or questions or disbelief, but even they could not ignore the headline screaming out of the front page of the _Prophet_ after the arrival of the owl post.

_ **HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS** _

There was a sudden hush before the silence broke like a dam and voices quickly rose in panic and excitement. Somehow, it seemed much more _real_ now that it was there in print. Michelle almost missed the post office owl that landed with a letter for Evan. He opened it and read, and she watched his face still. After a long moment, he simply folded the letter back up and tucked it into an inside pocket without comment. _It must be from Rachael_, she realised. Meanwhile, the others were continuing to pick the bones out of the Prophet’s flurry of articles.

“Listen to this,” Tammy exclaimed in disgust, jamming her finger down on the article in question. “‘We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is authoring guides to home and personal defence that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes as soon as possible’.”

“Oh, great,” Becky snorted angrily, “It might have been more helpful if Fudge hadn’t installed his idiot crony here at Hogwarts to ensure that we didn’t learn any defence at all this year. Wanker!”

“You weren’t even doing Defence, Becky,” Ravi pointed out.

“So? What about the rest of you? You took the class and you’re no better off than I am!”

Michelle tuned out their arguing to watch Evan closely. Her boyfriend looked tense and on-edge, but she couldn’t work out if it was just a continuation of his mood the previous night or if it was something new, and she forced herself to wait until they had finished breakfast and joined the cheerful hordes flooding towards Hogsmeade to speak to him privately. Passing through the school gates, she made a hard left and followed the walls for a few dozen paces, just until they were out of sight of anyone on the main path. Steeling herself, she stopped and put a hand on his arm.

“Is everything all right?” He looked away from her, and a long silence stretched out until she prompted him. “The letter?”

He nodded reluctantly, and took a deep breath. “That was from Mum. She’s sold the house.”

She gaped at him in silence for a moment until realisation slowly dawned. “No. Evan, no!”

“She went to the estate agents to list the place a couple of weeks ago. They had someone looking, and… yeah. So. It’s done.”

She tried to fight the rising tide of suffocating panic, but could only stammer, “And… and…”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a cracked whisper. “I guess we’ll work that out when I get home.”

Her breath rattled in her throat, and she flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest until the threatening burn in her eyes subsided. _I will _not_ cry. I will _not._ I knew this could happen. It was likely, even, from some of the things he’s said_. She felt a tremor in his arms when they enfolded her, and no matter that they held her tightly, it was impossible not to imagine them slipping away from her. She remembered his words from a few months ago all too well. _We’ll be on the first portkey out_. Now that You-Know-Who’s return really had happened, it seemed inevitable.

“It’s going to happen, isn’t it?” she whispered.

She felt him swallow. “I don’t know. Probably. Mum’s going, I can’t see that she won’t, now. Me?” He let out an agitated sigh, letting go of her to drag his hands through his hair before fixing her with pleading eyes. “All I know for sure is that I want to be with you. But.”

“But,” she agreed around the lump in her throat, straightening up. “I can’t imagine being without you, either. But.”

“But it’s my mum. Oh God, I want to tell you everything will be fine, but I can’t. I’m sorry, Michelle.”

“_Evan! For God’s sake!_” she flared, but quickly softened at his look of surprise and hurt. “It’s not your fault, all right? It’s not a simple choice, and you couldn’t control any of this happening, so don’t apologise.”

“It should be. It’s a simple choice that would make both of us happy.”

“It’s anything but simple, I know that, and so do you.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and get a grasp on her boiling emotions. “Talk to your mum. That’s what you’ve always said you’ll do. Wait until you get home and talk to Rachael. What did her letter say?”

He shrugged awkwardly, “Not a lot, really. Just that she’d gone ahead with the sale. They did all the legal stuff on Friday, so we have until the end of July. Some stuff about exams, some stuff about home and Byron. You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah. And I bet she’s looking forward to seeing you, too.” She took some more steadying breaths, watching him closely. “Look, I know it’s a huge decision that we’re going to have to face, but let’s just try to have fun today, OK?” she said, in a low voice. “There’s nothing we can do about it now, so we’ll deal with it when we have to deal with it.”

He gave her a twisted smile, almost a grimace. “This is something of a role reversal for us, isn’t it?” He shook his head and sucked in a deep breath of his own. “You’re right, let’s go and have fun. Tomorrow can take care of itself for a while.”

She reached for his hand, almost tentatively, and felt a surge of relief at his fingers sliding into hers.

Hogsmeade was in a carnival mood, as if the picturesque little village wanted to celebrate in the sunshine as much as the students thronging its streets did. Window boxes were in full bloom and bunting fluttered above doors and windows that were flung wide, and the whole place seemed to gleam a little more sharply than usual in the bright light. Part of it was nostalgia, she knew, or the makings of it. Their last Hogsmeade trip would always be special. She glanced up at Evan, and had to suppress a smile. _All those convoluted plans and hopes and dreams where I didn’t screw everything up by being me and of course he would end up declaring his undying love. Hogsmeade must have featured in most of them, somehow, and I’d miss it for that, even if nothing else!_

It took a while for them to catch the right mood after the rocky start, but touring all the familiar spots, running into friends all over the village, teasing each other about Honeydukes, the pleasant, warming sun - it was all so comfortably familiar that it was impossible not to feel their spirits lift. Even having to sit inside for lunch at the Three Broomsticks because the beer garden was rammed brought back dozens of happy memories of visits past.

After a long and lingering lunch, they did some unhurried shopping. Honeydukes was last on the list, partly because she enjoyed the anticipation, partly so things had less chance to melt before they got back to the castle, and partly because Evan loved to tease her about it, and she loved the chance to play up to it and flirt absolutely shamelessly with him. Other people looked at them strangely, but she didn’t care because every smile was a victory, every laugh was a triumph. She pretended not to notice him slipping a few extra things into his basket, and she was sure he was showing the same strategic blindness with hers, too.

All too soon, it was time to return to Hogwarts. Their friends were all around them, but the couples preferred to walk by themselves, savouring the walk one last time with the sunshine filtering through the trees and birdsong in the air. It was quietly idyllic.

Back at school and halfway across the lawns, Evan suddenly stopped, peering towards Hagrid’s hut. A thin curl of smoke was rising from its chimney, and he turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

She smiled, feeling a flood of relief. _Something else coming right now that Umbridge is gone_. “It must be! Come on!”

A familiar flurry of excited barking greeted their knock, and she heard heavy feet before the door opened, and Hagrid’s massive, bearded figure filled the doorway.

“Evan! An’ Miss Taylor, as well! Heh, it’s good ter see ya!” he boomed in delight, shoving his dog back inside the hut. “Get back, there, Fang! Sorry ‘bout ‘im, are you stoppin’ in for a mo’?”

“We saw the smoke and just wanted to see if you were back and all right,” Michelle said.

Hagrid beamed, “Ah, I’m fine. A bit o’ warning can make all th’ difference, an’ thanks ter you two, I knew they were comin’. I’d bin half-expectin’ it, anyway.”

“I didn’t think Umbridge would try to sneak up on you with a bunch of thugs in the middle of the night,” Evan said. “No-one could believe they hexed Professor McGonagall.”

“Bloody cowards!” Hagrid growled, a sound that rattled in her chest. “As if any of ’em would dare face her in a fair fight! I settled a few of ‘em, but really, th’ only thing I could do was get away fast as I could.”

“Where did you go?” Evan asked.

“There’s a place I know up in the mountains, knew they’d never find me,” Hagrid said, with satisfaction. “Not ‘til Dumbledore sent for me, anyway. I jus’ wish I could o’ taken th’ hippogriffs with me. They weren’t havin’ it, an’ I had to give up in the end. Ol’ Hotspur wouldn’t go, y’see. I kinda thought he wouldn’t. It’s his ground an’ his nest, an’ he’ll stay an’ fight for it, so o’ course all the others will, too, cos he’s their stallion. I guess it worked out OK fer ‘em in the end, but I didn’t ‘alf worry ‘bout ‘em.”

“It seems like everything’s happened at once,” Michelle observed quietly. “Dumbledore’s back, and Umbridge is gone, and now… well.”

She trailed off, and felt Evan grip her hand a little tighter, but Hagrid simply nodded, his normally-cheerful face serious. “We’ll do what we have ter do, jus’ like we did last time. We’ve got Professor Dumbledore on our side, don’t ferget. Great man, none greater. Even You-Know-Who treads lightly with Dumbledore around.”

“Let’s hope.”

Hagrid heaved a sigh, and changed the subject with determined cheer, clapping his huge hands together, “So! Are ye comin’ in fer a minute? I’m guessin’ yer jus’ back from Hogsmeade?”

Evan glanced at Michelle. “We weren’t planning to stay, but we’d like to drop in tomorrow, if that’s all right, once you’ve had a chance to settle back in.”

“Anytime, although I might be out an’ about a bit. Got ter check on things. It’s only been a few days, but end o’ term, an’ all that.”

They said their goodbyes and returned to the castle, stopping in their dorms briefly before joining their friends for dinner in the Great Hall. Afterwards, Mike and Maxi led the seventh-years back outside, congregating by a gravelly patch near the lake with armfuls of brush and sticks and lumps of firewood that they threw down onto the gravel to make a bonfire. Trish and the Gryffindors were with them, and Roger led the Ravenclaws down shortly after. After everyone had conjured chairs and cushions and made themselves comfortable, Mike stood by the pile and called for their attention.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and the rest o’ yers!” He was greeted with a mixture of jeers and good-natured ribbing until he held up a large book with green covers, and a huge cheer went up when they recognised Wilbert Slinkhard’s hated text. “Normally, I’d not stand fer anyone doing this sort o’ thing, but - _In-frickin’-cendio!_”

The book burst into flame, and he cast it into the middle of the pile. Maxi followed suit, and together, the books smoked and fumed until the brush caught and the flames began to build and grow. Mike summoned a couple of crates of Butterbeer from where they had been cooling in the lake, and they settled in to chat and exchange stories and relax in each others’ company. As the sun sank towards the horizon and evening set in, it seemed a perfect way to round off the day.

* * * * *

The girls were in no hurry to get up the next morning, and lounged around on their beds and talked, instead. Michelle flopped on her belly on her own bed, and Maxi came to sit next to her, while Tammy sat on the edge of her bed and let Becky brush out her long, blonde hair.

“It still doesn’t seem real, somehow, the news that You-Know-Who is supposed to be back,” Tammy was saying. “If you weren’t all with me, I think I’d have thought I’d imagined it.”

“Evan seemed ter know it would be somethin’ big,” Maxi noted. “’Course, it all came out yesterday in the papers, as well, we jus’ got ter hear it first.”

“That reminds me, where did Evan disappear off to on Friday, anyway?” Becky asked, pulling a hair tie off the handle of the brush and passing it to Tammy.

Michelle hesitated, trying to decide what to say, when she heard Maxi snort. “Away ter be on his own, o’ course.”

“Why ‘of course’?”

“Why d’ya think? We all know about his da’.”

Becky shrugged, “Yeah, I suppose. My mum missed all that last time, all she knew about was the IRA stuff, and even that was a fairly distant sort of thing out where we live. It was mainly the big cities that were targeted. I think Dad had gone overseas again with Gringotts. I never saw him much until after I started Hogwarts.”

“I think mine were pretty tense,” said Tammy. “They don’t really talk about it much, but they’d just got married and it was bloody nervous times. They’re both half-bloods, but they knew they only had to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that’s without the risk of drawing attention to themselves, somehow. What about you, Maxi?”

“Everyone knew about it, o’ course. Ours is a tiny village, everyone knows each other, so y’ all look out fer each other, ya know? Even so, it was across the water an’ never really seemed like much of a threat ter us. There was some nonsense in the cities, o’ course, but nothin’ out where we are.”

“Mine thought about it, and gave everything up,” said Michelle. “They packed up everything at the farm, all of Dad’s school stuff, and took it to my mum’s parents’ place. They left their wands there, too, and then Dad’s parents took them back to the farm. It was a bit of a culture shock for Mum, living as a Muggle, but it worked, and they weren’t troubled or threatened by anything. It was nearly four years before Nana came to tell them that the War was over, and in the mean time, they’d had me.”

Becky waggled her eyebrows, “I guess it was either sex or magic, and they’d given up magic.”

The girls roared with laughter, almost drowning out Michelle’s revolted exclamation, “Gross! That’s my parents!”

“I hate to break it to you, but I think you’re living proof they’ve had it off at least once,” said Tammy, still snickering.

“That doesn’t mean I want to think about it!”

“Of course not, she’s too busy thinking about Mr. Dreamboat, instead,” said Becky teasingly.

Tammy sighed loudly, clasping her hands together under her chin with a soppy expression. “What colour do you want your kids’ eyes to be?”

_Blue_, she thought before she could stop herself, and felt her cheeks catch fire. The others whooped with laughter and she buried her face in the quilt. “I hate you guys,” she moaned, her voice half-muffled. _That’s hardly fair, I’ve always loved his eyes. And I don’t even know if I _want _kids. Oh, for Merlin’s sake, why am I thinking about this?_

Maxi patted her on the back consolingly, “Ah, don’t be like that, Michelle, the singletons over there are just jealous.” She lifted her flaming face in time to see Maxi grin, “Maybe they’ll just have to get together themselves seeing as no-one else will have them.”

Tammy snorted, “Pfft, as if! She’d need a stepladder.”

“Hey!” Becky whacked her on the shoulder indignantly.

Tammy jumped off the bed, backing away with a cheeky smile, “You know it’s true, midget!”

“Midget?!” she demanded in outrage, climbing to her feet and shaking a jokey fist, “Who are you calling a midget, you long streak of- _hey, get back here!_”

Tammy dodged her lunge with a squeak, and the two began a steeplechase around the room and across the beds. Maxi and Michelle got to their feet to avoid being trampled, and found themselves being used as an additional obstacle by their friends in their chase. Michelle took advantage of Becky and Tammy lunging at each other around Maxi to sneak the first use of the bathroom and have a hot shower.

Later, with Tammy and Becky still pretending to snipe at each other and Mike, Maxi, and Ravi egging them on, she tried to focus on breakfast with Evan and tried to ignore them. Those blue eyes were watchful, always moving, always trying to catch the movement around them. It was quite unsettling to see, and she couldn’t help pick up on it herself. They were lingering over a final cup of tea when an exquisite origami crane fluttered over to them and settled into Michelle’s hand before unfolding itself.

“What’s that?”

_ Dear Miss Taylor and Mr. Fielding,_

_ I would be most grateful if you would present yourself at my office_

_ at 11 o’clock this morning._

_ The password is ‘Ice Mice’._

_ Cordially yours,_

_ A.P.W.B. Dumbledore_

“Dumbledore wants to see both of us,” she said quietly.

“I wonder what that’s about,” Becky said, her feud with Tammy temporarily forgotten.

“It’s pretty obvious, I would have thought,” said Ravi. “So, what are you two going to do until eleven?”

Evan looked at her enquiringly, and Michelle shrugged one shoulder. “Go and see Hagrid?”

“He’ll be out working, I should think,” said Evan. “I know he’s only been away a few days, but he’ll want to make sure everything’s as it should be.”

“Oh. Well, I think Trish said she was going to meet up with people in the courtyard this morning?”

He forced away his tense expression and smiled warmly at her. “Let’s do that, then.”

Chris joined them for the walk down to the courtyard, and she suppressed a smile at his eagerness, exchanging knowing looks with Evan. _How awful it must be to be separated like he and Trish are. How would Evan and I cope if we were in different houses, too? Then again, would I even have got to know him, other than ‘that cute guy over there’? In a way, we’ve made each other who we are._

Trish was watching the goldfish in the old fountain with Kenny and Angelina, while Emma and Karen sprawled on the grass not far away, but after they all greeted each other, she quickly slipped away to the far side of the courtyard with her boyfriend. The goldfish held Michelle’s attention for a while, cruising slowly through the water in a colourful shoal, but she felt keyed-up and restless, and she and Evan ended up spending most of their time walking slowly around the ancient cloister or trying to decipher the initials scratched into the bark of the trees while she resisted the urge to keep checking her watch. It was a relief to leave Chris and Trish and the others behind and head for the gargoyle on the third floor that guarded the headmaster’s office.

“Password?” the ugly stone carving grumbled gruffly.

They exchanged a look. “Ice Mice.”

The gargoyle slid aside, revealing a staircase that spiralled upwards and out of sight. She reluctantly stepped through, and no sooner had they both entered than the wall slid shut behind them and the stairs themselves sprang into motion, carrying them higher and higher in the tower. It deposited them on a landing, and with a quick check of her watch and a glance at Evan, she took a deep breath, and reached for the griffin-shaped knocker on the polished oak door in front of them.

The door swung open of its own accord, and they found themselves entering a large and handsome circular room that took up the entire width of the tower. Tall, narrow windows admitted sunlight on all sides between walls covered in the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses, seemingly asleep, while dozens of little mechanisms ticked and whirred quietly away to themselves on tables that were dotted between the many bookcases. A massive, ornate wooden desk dominated the centre of the room, and behind it sat the familiar figure of the Headmaster himself, smiling benevolently in greeting.

“Ah, Miss Taylor and Mr. Fielding, welcome! Thank you both for coming - and precisely on time, too. Please, sit and make yourselves comfortable,” he said, indicating the two paisley armchairs in front of his desk. When they hesitated, he eyed them briefly, then lifted his wand, and one of the chairs grew sideways until it was wide enough for both of them. Feeling entirely off-balance, Michelle shuffled her way over and sank down on it beside Evan, trying to resist the urge to clutch his hand. _Come on, I’m a big girl, now!_

Professor Dumbledore’s pleasant smile faded into seriousness. “Now then, you are probably wondering why I have invited you both here this morning. I assure you, you are in no trouble and have nothing to be concerned about, but I have been catching up on events at the school in my absence, and both of you have been involved in serious incidents that I must deal with. I have spoken to the teachers and staff members involved, of course, but I would like to hear directly from yourselves, too. If you would like Professor Sprout or another teacher here, I would be glad to invite them to join us.”

He looked enquiringly at them until Michelle mumbled, “No, it’s fine.”

“I shall start with you, Miss Taylor, if I may. Two months ago, I believe you came upon one student attacking another, younger student on the seventh floor.” She flinched, and she was quietly grateful when Evan took her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles reassuringly. She knew the sharp-eyed old man would have noticed, but he made no comment and simply continued, “Now, I have spoken to Miss Greenhalgh also, but I would like to hear the events from your perspective as well.”

She forced herself to steady her breathing, then began to talk. She was proud that her voice only shook a little, and she was endlessly grateful that she could focus on Evan’s hand in hers, on every line and hair and callus and scar, and try to block out the horribly-vivid images that were entwined with the memories. Professor Dumbledore’s questions were gentle enough, and he skilfully led her to explanations without lingering on the worst details, but it was still a tremendous relief when he turned his attention to Evan, instead. She’d heard him describe the bare details of his involvement before, and of course she had been involved in some of it, but some parts of the aftermath were new to her. She didn’t know that he’d been up there again the following day, searching the corridor and questioning the portraits, nor that Engel went into so much detail.

“And there was a disturbance in the Great Hall a few days later, I understand,” Dumbledore said delicately.

Evan grimaced, “Warrington had been trying to make sure I knew it was him every time we crossed paths. He shot his mouth off once too often. I shouldn’t have reacted, of course, but I did.”

“For which you have already received detention?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Then I see no reason to pursue that matter any further. However, then there was the unfortunate events of the Hufflepuff-Slytherin Quidditch match.”

“It was always going to be a rough one. There was too much bad feeling floating around.” Evan shrugged, “I had sort of hoped that might put an end to the worst of it.”

Dumbledore peered at him over the top of his spectacles. “And yet, a few days ago, you and Mr. Warrington encountered each other once again.”

It was chilling to hear Evan describe attempted murder in such a calm, almost off-hand, voice. There had been more emotion in his voice when he talked about finding her lying in that seventh-floor corridor, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. _He shouldn’t be talking about someone cutting him up and trying to kill him like it was going for a stroll_.

Once he’d finished, there was a long silence while Professor Dumbledore sat with his hands steepled in front of himself thoughtfully. “There seems to have been quite a long-running chain of animosity between Mr. Warrington and the two of you,” he said at last.

Michelle and Evan exchanged glances. “I’m told that Warrington’s sister picked a fight with Carrie and lost - twice,” he said. “Michelle just happened to walk in on him settling the score for her.”

Dumbledore nodded, “But your own encounters are not simply a result of that, nor the fight in the Great Hall.”

“Warrington’s had it out for me ever since Montague disappeared,” Evan said reluctantly. “He seems to have it in his head that it was my doing.”

“Why would that be?”

“Honestly, sir? I have no idea. He’s been taking it out on all sorts of people, but he really seems to think I was behind it, somehow.”

“Indeed, he made the same accusations to me earlier, very forcefully.” Dumbledore looked at him piercingly. “Mr Fielding, do you know what happened to Graham Montague that caused his disappearance and subsequent injury?”

Michelle bridled at the formal nature of the question, almost an accusation, but Evan seemed unruffled. “No, Professor,” he said simply.

After a moment, Dumbledore nodded, and sat back in his chair. “Mr. Warrington will be leaving Hogwarts immediately. He will not be expelled, as there is little point in such a convoluted administrative exercise at this time of the school year, but he cannot be permitted to stay for the safety of yourselves and other students. On behalf of Hogwarts, I must apologise to both of you for the manner in which this has been dealt with, and that it has been permitted to continue for so long.”

_So that’s it? He just walks away after trying to kill two people? I know Dumbledore wasn’t here when it happened, and Umbridge was basically covering for Warrington, but... really? That’s it?_ Not sure what to say, she nodded half-heartedly, and saw Evan do the same.

“You are no doubt thinking that this is a very inadequate response, given the seriousness of the incidents - multiple incidents - involving Mr. Warrington,” Dumbledore said quietly, “And you are correct. Removing him from the school is within my power as Headmaster. Anything more than that, however, would be protracted and ultimately unlikely to be successful. I can no longer be certain of support from the Ministry, and its attentions are now, for obvious reasons, focused elsewhere.”

“Professor, if he isn’t stopped, Cassius Warrington is going to kill someone,” Evan said bluntly. “It’s only luck that he hasn’t already.”

“My power beyond Hogwarts is limited,” the Headmaster repeated. “As to the future, I share your concerns but I can only hope that you are incorrect.”

She wanted to say something, to protest, but it seemed futile. For Dumbledore to admit that there was little he could do, things must be bad indeed. The _Sunday Prophet_ had carried a scathing editorial on Cornelius Fudge that morning, and after such a humiliating climb-down on both You-Know-Who and Dumbledore’s position, his administration was surely on its last legs. What would inevitably be represented as a schoolyard scrap would barely register on the Ministry’s list of concerns. She heard Evan force out a hard breath of his own, and looked up at him to see his jaw clamped tightly and his brows lowered.

“I must thank you both for your courage and patience in sharing what must be very unpleasant memories with me,” Professor Dumbledore added, after a long pause. “Do you have any other questions that perhaps you would like to ask me?”

_What’s going to happen to Umbridge_, she wanted to ask. _What’s going to happen to the evil bitch that enabled a lot of this by actively encouraging the Goon Squad, and then brushing their behaviour under the carpet?_ But she knew that would be futile, too. _Like Warrington, I suspect I’m just going to have to be happy with seeing the back of her_.

“Is there anything that you can do for Montague?” Evan said suddenly.

“Mr. Montague?” Dumbledore repeated in mild surprise, “Why do you ask?”

“If I can be blunt, Professor, Montague is a prick and a bully. That doesn’t mean he should end up in the hospital wing in that state.”

“Alas, I am not a healer, Mr. Fielding. Mr. Montague will, however, be transferred to St. Mungo's shortly. He has been progressing well, but specialist treatment will speed his recuperation. The brain is a most astonishing and complex organ, and this sort of healing is often slow and protracted, but I am assured he will fully recover in time.”

“I see,” Evan said neutrally.

“If there is nothing else, then I thank you once again for your assistance.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling, “I would tell you to take care of each other, but I can see that you do so remarkably well already, so perhaps I should merely congratulate you on finding happiness with each other at last, instead.”

Michelle felt her cheeks heat up. _Is he really…?_

“That’s the thing about love,” Dumbledore continued blithely. “The more you share it, the more it grows. Remarkable, isn’t it?”

_OK, now he’s just taking the mickey! _“Um…. Yeah. Remarkable,” she muttered faintly.

It was a relief to step through the gargoyle-guarded door at the bottom of the stairs again and blow out a deep breath. Evan grinned at her.

“So, how does it feel to have Dumbledore’s endorsement to smooch?”

“Oh, Great Merlin, let’s never speak of that again!”

Rather than head down to the Great Hall for lunch, they made a circuitous route through the castle, stopping at the fifth-floor landing to admire the small section of swamp that was all that remained of Fred and George’s parting gift to Umbridge. Flitwick had undone the majority of their spell in a few seconds, but had left a small patch as a monument to such a fine piece of wand-work. They very deliberately didn’t linger on what they had told the Headmaster and the ramifications of it, instead choosing to keep their conversation light and cheerful. Perhaps it was ignoring reality, but there seemed little point in continuing to chew over their grievances, no matter how well-founded their mutual outrage. _Maybe Dumbledore’s right. Let’s keep hold of happiness while we can._

* * * * *

Professor McGonagall reappeared in time for dinner on Sunday night, leaning heavily on a walking stick but otherwise her normal self. If anything, the stern witch seemed rather overcome by the flood of Gryffindors that came up to the high table to welcome her back, and no matter how she grumbled sharply and even shook her walking stick at a few of the worst offenders, there was always someone in red-trimmed robes hovering protectively nearby.

The new week proceeded in a strange kind of unreality. The morning papers were seized upon and pored over with feverish intensity each morning, but other than overexcited op-ed panic from the _Prophet _and Fudge continuing to bumble along in his mortally-wounded tenure with all the pig-headed stubbornness he was renowned for, You-Know-Who seemed to have vanished again. There was not a single sighting or dark magic-related incident reported across the country, and so people subsided again into an uneasy peace that quickly turned into a sort of desperate optimism that everything would simply carry on as normal. Each day after breakfast with no new news, the students would pour out into the grounds, sunbathing, playing Quidditch, swimming in the lake, or just generally making up for a hard year’s studying by doing as little as possible in good company. It was rather bittersweet for Michelle and her friends, as it was impossible not to realise that their halcyon days were coming to an end.

Easily the highlight of the week fell on Wednesday at dinner time. They were halfway through ham, eggs, and chips, when they heard a loud crash from somewhere in the castle, followed by Peeves’ familiar laugh.

“_Pesky Pinkie! Pesky Pinkie, sneaky-sneaky!_”

There was an angry screech in response, and the sound of spellfire impacting on stone. Murmurs rose all around them, and heads started to turn toward the doors.

“You don’t think?” Ravi said, starting to grin.

“Pesky Pinkie, that Peeves hates? Who else is it going to be,” said Tammy, jumping to her feet. Around the Great Hall, a few others were also setting off to investigate.

“What was it you said about people running straight towards the explosions around here?” Evan said to Michelle, joining the exodus.

She rolled her eyes and got to her feet as well, “And now you’re doing it, too!”

“And you’re only coming along to check on us, aren’t you?”

They made it to the Entrance Hall just as the laughter started. Umbridge was flailing her hands over her head and running down the path towards the gates as fast as her stumpy legs could carry her. The little poltergeist was swooping around her and whacking her over the head with a sock full of chalk, cackling wildly all the time.

“Blimey, look at her go,” Ravi said in admiration from beside them. “Who would of thought the little cow had such a turn of speed on her?”

“You know, I’ve always liked Peeves,” Becky said through her laughter.

They heard a distant cry of, “Whoops-a-daisy! Mind the step, Toady!” and Peeves swooped down to shove a walking stick between Umbridge’s scurrying feet and send her sprawling. Umbridge screamed in frustration and hatred, but scrambled to her feet and bolted for the gates again, cowering from the sock and now the walking stick that Peeves was wielding with great abandon. At last, she scrambled through the gates and disappeared from sight, and Peeves was cheered all the way back to the castle, cackling madly and doffing his bell-covered hat left and right as he soaked in the unusual acclaim.

“Ya know what, I think the little guy’s starting to grow on me, too,” Mike said, with a satisfied sigh.


	34. Going Home

Thursday was a day for packing and saying goodbyes. After breakfast, they went back to their dorms and tipped everything onto their beds - drawers, book bags, and trunks - and then began to sort through and repack everything for the trip home. It was a rather melancholy activity, Michelle thought, as she wiped down the inside of her trunk to remove the accumulated dust and debris, almost like packing away their childhoods. She looked around at the others, Maxi tossing her schoolbooks in a pile and Tammy and Becky sitting on the floor together to laugh over something-or-other that Tammy had found forgotten in the bottom of her trunk, and felt a sort of wistful gratitude that they were there with her, too.

She stacked her old textbooks in a neat pile beside her bed. Her notes went into a second pile, and then she began to sort through and re-fold her clothes. Socks with holes in them, tights gone baggy at the knees, jumpers worn almost through at the elbows, shirts irreparably stained by plants and potions, all of them went into a separate pile for rags and salvage. In the cold light of day, some of her knickers were rather threadbare, and she had not one but two bras with broken underwires. They went in the bin along with some fossilised humbugs, bits of broken quill and scraps of parchment, a homework planner… _how on earth did I end up with this much junk?_

Her potions chest had already been cleared out, the little drawers and bottles emptied and scrubbed clean, so that went in one end of her trunk. Her cauldrons, meticulously cleaned, went in the other end to counterbalance it, and then she started to pack things in around them. She picked out her best uniform and hung it on the door of her wardrobe. Her lip twitched in amusement, and she swapped the skirt for one of the fifth-year skirts that she’d kept for emergency use, instead. It was a few inches shorter, nothing scandalous and certainly no worse than what most of the other girls wore, but perhaps not entirely in line with the dress code. _Gosh. People might realise I have knees - or worse, maybe even thighs. The horror_.

Maxi was watching her, grinning. “Feelin’ confident today, are we? Good fer you!” She chuckled and shook her head, “What happened ter shy, sweet little Michelle that was always afraid someone might notice her?”

Tammy laughed, “She finally realised that someone _did_ notice her, and she’s been noticing him right back!”

She waited, one eyebrow raised, until the laughter stopped. “She grew up,” she said softly, “Or at least, I think she did.”

There was a brief silence, until Tammy blew out a sharp breath. “Oof! Right in the heart, there, ‘Chelle.”

“Sorry.”

Becky shrugged, “It’s true though. I mean, it had to happen sometime for us, right?”

“_You_ didn’t do much growing _up_, though, did ya?” Maxi said, summoning a grin. “_Ow!_”

Becky pegged her right between the eyes with a dried-up piece of Drooble’s and glared at her indignantly, but quickly joined in the laughter, and the briefly sombre moment passed.

It wasn’t long before Michelle could close the lid on her trunk and climb back to her feet. It seemed strangely empty, given the struggles to fit everything in she remembered in past years.

“Bloody hell, ya done already?” Maxi grumbled, reaching for her wand. “Well, ter hell wi’ this, I’m feeling daring. Hold on ter ya frillies, ladies, ‘cos here we go - _Pack!_”

This time, everything flew neatly into place in her trunk, the socks even folding themselves in mid-air. Grinning hugely, Maxi bowed left and right to her audience, until Tammy threw a ball of socks at her in disgust.

Maxi and Michelle left the others to it and went to see how the boys were getting on. They found Chris swinging a cauldron full of socks into his trunk, while Evan sat with Ravi, helping him go through his pile of leftover odds-and-ends. Mike, meanwhile, was face down on his bed amidst a monumental jumble of his things and seemingly fast asleep. She heard a sudden yelp as Maxi zapped her boyfriend on the butt with a stinging hex, and went to see the others while verbal warfare broke out behind her.

“Hi! How’s it going, over here?”

“Nearly there,” said Ravi with a smile. “I can’t believe I have so much crap!”

“I think there might be a sudden influx in the seventh-year Divination class, now that Firenze is teaching,” said Evan. “We’re trying to sort out what we can add to the auction.”

The auction, or what Mike scathingly referred to as ‘Hufflepuff book club’, was Maxi’s idea. After Chris’ successful appeal to former students for their copies of _Defeating the Darkness_, rather than haul away textbooks that they no longer wanted, she had suggested they gather everything up and trade it off to the younger years. Unless there was a change of curriculum, it would save them some money, and they’d even have a second set of notes to refer to. By mutual agreement, Wilbert Slinkhard’s books went into a special pile of their own.

After lunch, all the Hufflepuffs gathered together in the common room, while Mike and Maxi acted as compères.

“-And the lucky winner of Tammy’s _Advanced Transfiguration_ textbook and notes is… Leah Harper!” Mike announced, to general cheers. “Come on up, Leah!”

A grinning but apprehensive Leah picked her way through the crowd to where Mike and Maxi were standing by the fireplace.

“So, what’s it going ter be - dice or tombola?” Maxi asked, gesturing at the table in front of them.

“Tombola, I think.”

She tapped the little barrel with her wand, and it whirled briefly before spitting out a little piece of paper.

Mike picked it up and read it aloud. “And yer price is… sing us a verse of yer favourite song!”

The Hufflepuffs cheered again, this time mixed with laughter, but Leah groaned, “Oh, you have got to be kidding!”

“Ah, come on, now, Leah. Join in if ya know the words, the rest of yers, help ya mate out, here.”

With much cajoling and catcalling from the crowd, she broke into a reluctant version of _Got My Spell On You_, quickly accompanied by about half the audience, all getting into the spirit of things. When she finished, she got a rousing cheer, and slunk off clutching her prize to her chest, her cheeks fiery red.

“Moving swiftly on, this time it’s Ravi’s _Standard Book Of Spells_, Years Six _and _Seven,” Mike continued. “This opens the potential pool of winners right up, so, my lovely and glamorous assistant-” At this, Maxi whacked him on the arm indignantly, “-I mean, light of my life and most definitely in charge, who is our winner this time?”

Maxi rummaged in the hat and pulled out a scrap of paper. “This time, we have… ooh, Justin Finch-Fletchley! And here he comes, give him a hand, everyone!”

“Dice or tombola, dice or tombola?”

“I’ve always had luck with dice!” said Justin, getting another cheer for his bravado. He gathered up the many-sided little object and gave it a good shake before spilling it on the table.

Maxi leaned closer, then consulted a list on a scroll of parchment. “He’s rolled a twenty, ladies an’ gentlemen, and that means… oh by the… _it looks like it’s a kiss for Ravi!_”

The announcement was greeted with a huge cheer. Predictably, Ravi simply sprang up and offered his cheek insouciantly.

“I’m not kissing him!” Justin spluttered through his laughter, to a deafening chorus of boos.

Grinning evilly, Becky waved her wand, and Ravi vanished in a huge cloud of purple smoke that swirled and slowly evaporated… and the room dissolved into shrieks of laughter. Gone was his school uniform, and Ravi now teetered in alarmingly high heels, wearing a fur-trimmed, scarlet basque and matching hotpants. He looked down at himself, squeezed his oversized chest experimentally, and shrugged. “Stripper Claus it is, then. Go on, Jussie-Wussie, give us a great big snog!” he falsettoed, lunging at the back-pedalling Justin.

Crying with laughter, Michelle watched a massively-reluctant Justin peck Ravi on the cheek - and then Ravi grabbed him and pretended to buss him loudly on both cheeks in return - and with a flash of light and another puff of smoke, Ravi returned to his normal self and Justin bolted for the far end of the room as fast as he possibly could. It was quite a while before any of them could get a hold of themselves long enough to continue.

After the auction and the hilarity was over, Michelle helped the others put the common room back in order, and then turned to Evan. “So, where are you going to go next?”

He sighed. “I suppose I’m going to have to go and say goodbye to the hippogriffs. I've been putting it off for too long.”

She put her hand on his arm with a sympathetic look. “Do you want some company?”

He smiled in gratitude, “I won’t be long.”

He quickly retrieved his broom, and together, they went outside where they could mount up. Evan climbed on first, then waited for her to get up behind him.

“You’re only doing this for the snuggling opportunity,” he told her with a grin, as she wrapped her arms firmly around him.

“Oh yes, and you’re going to complain _so_ much.”

There was a lot of snuggling and very little complaining as they soared over the Hogwarts lawns, then over the gorge and down to the little clearing in the forest, where she jumped off and took the opportunity to thank her chauffeur thoroughly. Hand in hand, they made the short trip through the trees to the hippogriff paddocks. To her surprise, the end of the paddock closest to the castle had been roped off, and it wasn’t the enormous form of the gamekeeper that caught her eye so much as the skeletal, horse-like figures milling around in the temporary enclosure. _Oh, wow – thestrals!_

Hagrid straightened up in surprise from where he’d been checking a thestral’s hoof. “Oh, hello, you two! Blimey, I didn’t ‘spect ter see anyone down here, today!”

“Hi, Professor! It’s my last chance to see the hippogriffs, so I thought I should come and say goodbye to them,” said Evan. Behind him, Hotspur was already ambling over to meet him, and she could see the others watching them, too. “I didn’t think I’d see you here, either.”

“I’m jus’ gettin’ everything ready fer tomorrow. They all know, see, so all I gotta do is make sure everyone’s here an’ in good shape, then I’ll be back firs’ thing ter harness up an’ they’ll be ready ter go. Go on, lad, they’re dead keen ter see ya, too.”

Evan looked enquiringly at her, but she shook her head and walked over to the thestrals’ enclosure instead. She would be a distraction and the hippogriffs would be uncertain around her, based on her last visit, and she didn’t want to ruin the moment by intruding on his close relationship with the herd.

“Come on, Miss Taylor, yer can come a little closer. Gentle as lambs, thestrals are,” Hagrid said encouragingly, running a hand along another thestral’s back and then feeling its wing expertly. Rather reluctantly, she came right up to the ropes and leaned against one of the posts, watching the big Professor work. After a few minutes, one of the thestrals wandered over to her, and she had to force herself to stay perfectly still while it sniffed at her, then nuzzled her shoulder gently with its fleshless, almost insectoid, head. It was a very horse-like action, and almost on instinct, she found herself stroking its head and scratching between its ears. To her surprise, its slick skin was covered in fine, very short hairs, almost like velvet.

“Oh! Hello, there.”

“That one’s Netta, that is. Lovely ol’ gal, bin with us fer years. See? Soft as butter! Don’t be shy, now.”

Seeing one of its herd mates getting attention, another thestral came to investigate, too.

“This is Herja. She’s quite new, we ain’t had her long,” Hagrid explained, leaning on a wooden stave and watching them carefully. He smiled at her, his dark eyes twinkling. “So. Maybe you an’ Mr. Fielding, there, weren’t quite so far-fetched, after all.”

She looked up at him sharply, startled, then couldn’t resist turning her head to look back at Evan with a gentle smile. “Maybe you’re right.”

Hagrid chuckled, “Like I said, it usually works out fer best. Evan’s a fine lad, an’ you’re the only one fer ‘im, always have bin. I’m right glad ter see it.”

“Um… thank you.” It seemed very strange to hear it from a teacher, but Hagrid was Hagrid, and he was always rather different to the rest. “He’s really going to miss the herd, here.”

Hagrid nodded, reaching for another thestral to continue his examinations. “He’s done a fine job this year, an’ it’s a mark o’ how well he’s done when he turns up an’ they all come to see ‘im. He’s got the right sort of patience for it, y’see, an’ they think o’ him as one o’ their own.”

It was nearly an hour before Evan tore himself away from the herd for the final time. Caroline and Storm followed him almost to where she was waiting with Hagrid, and he turned back to them one final time. “I’m sorry, I have to go now,” he explained gruffly.

Storm let out a mournful croon in reply, and Evan knelt down and hugged the little hippogriff, then straightened up and did the same to his mother.

“Blimey, brings a tear ter the eye, doesn’t it?” Hagrid said quietly from beside her.

She nodded, but her eyes were fixed on Evan. He looked nearly as crestfallen as Storm did, and when he reached her, she made sure to hug him tightly. It was a long moment before she felt his arms slacken, and she could step back and take his hand, instead.

Evan took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Thanks again for everything, Hagrid. It’s been brilliant to learn from you.”

Hagrid plucked an enormous handkerchief out of his pocket and blew noisily. “Oh, don’t, lad! I couldn’t have asked fer a better student, an’ if yeh ever need anythin’, well, I’m only an owl away.”

Evan was very quiet on the walk back to the clearing, wrapped up in his thoughts. It was only when he swung his broom off his shoulder for them to mount up that she put out a hand to stop him.

“Hey. Are you all right?”

He shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah. Just…”

She knew exactly what he meant, and stepped forward on tip-toes to kiss him gently. “Yeah.” She felt his fingers glide gently down her cheek. “I love you.”

That made him smile, albeit a little sadly. “Love you, too, sweetheart.”

They took their time on the flight back, savouring the feeling of being together in the warm afternoon sun. Most of the students were scattered across the lawn, taking advantage of the last, lazy day before the end of the school year. Evan popped back to his dorm to ditch his broom, and then they joined the other seventh-years circulating around their teachers’ offices to say goodbye. Poor Professor Flitwick was quite emotional, wringing their hands and dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief, and even Professor McGonagall looked touched.

Michelle opted to pass on visiting Professor Snape.

Evan did make one final, unusual stop on their trip. They took the stairs down to the hospital wing, where he tapped on the door to Madam Pomfrey’s office. The door swung open and she looked up from the crossword in the _Prophet_, and her face fell when she recognised him.

“Oh no, not again!”

They both laughed, and he held out a bottle and card to her. “I think that says it all! I must have driven you to drink over the last few years, so we’ve got you a little something to say thank you for looking after us all so well.”

The nurse looked rather flustered. “Oh. Oh, you’re very welcome, Mr. Fielding. Very kind of you, indeed. Thank you, Miss Taylor!”

They talked for a few minutes more, then left her to the crossword and retreated to the nearly-deserted common room.

“So. What do we do now?” he asked, with a sigh.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m knackered after all that,” she admitted. “We’ve still got a couple of hours before we have to start getting ready for the feast.” She glanced around to check that she wouldn’t be overheard. She didn’t know why, exactly, but she couldn’t help herself. “And I want some Evan-time, all to myself.”

He let out a chuff of amusement, “What, didn’t your mum teach you to share?”

“I’ll share most things, but I’m damned if I’m sharing you!”

He turned one of the loveseats around so that it faced the open window and dropped onto its cushions suppressing a yawn of his own. She kicked off her shoes and sat down beside him, but after a moment’s thought, she grabbed her wand and grew the seat all the way to the wall so that she could stretch out and snuggle up against him with her head on his chest. His arm wrapped around her, and she quickly fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat in her ear and the warm scent of him in her nostrils.

* * * * *

The sound of poorly-suppressed laughter woke her, and she cracked a bleary eye and looked around in confusion before thinking to lift her head from its warm, rather firm, pillow. Becky was kneeling in through the window, camera in hand and a huge grin on her face.

“Merlin, you’re like a couple of overgrown puppies!”

Michelle huffed and made a rude gesture, but her movement had also woken Evan, who was starting to stir.

“Cor, I must have really needed that,” he yawned, completely ignoring Becky’s laughter to lean over and kiss her like waking up together was the most natural thing in the world. _Maybe it should be. Merlin knows I want it to be_.

They set their little corner of the common room to rights again, and she grabbed her discarded shoes and padded off to her dorm to start getting ready. Tammy was already wrapped up in a towel, trying to get her mass of long, blonde hair dry, while Maxi sprawled on her bed in her knickers with a book. Seconds later, Becky came bouncing in, still grinning. Michelle braced herself for the inevitable teasing, but thankfully she let it be.

She took her time getting ready, carefully doing her hair and adding a little makeup, and she made sure to get her robes just so and her tie knot straight and even. Despite their often-cavalier attitudes, the others were taking the same care, she noticed. It just didn’t seem right to go out for the last time with out making some sort of effort. What was also noticeable was that the laughter had stopped. Instead of the usual bright chatter and joking around when they were together, there was an apprehensive feeling in the air that kept words to a minimum and voices quiet and serious.

In contrast, the common room was noisy and jammed with their housemates of all years in their best uniform. The boys were waiting, of course, and she found herself at Evan’s side almost before she knew it. “You’re looking great,” he whispered, his arm sliding around her waist, and she felt a happy glow start to burn away the sombre mood.

“And you look absolutely dreamy,” she whispered back with a cheeky grin, making him laugh quietly.

There was some sort of hold-up by the doors, and the queue to get outside got narrower until they were forced to shuffle slowly ahead one-by-one. Roger Stebbins and Leah Harper were alternately charming people’s hair black or Hufflepuff yellow on the way out. “We got the idea from Tammy the other day,” Leah said brightly. “Make sure you’re sitting next to someone with the opposite colour. Black for you, Michelle? You’re almost there, anyway.”

She felt a funny prickle in her scalp, and looked over in time to see Evan get his dose from Roger before they moved out into the corridor. “You look like a tennis ball,” she snickered, hooking her arm through his. He huffed in amusement, but she saw his cheek twitch when he looked at her in return. “What’s wrong?”

“I know this is a bit of fun, but that just looks like a bad dye job,” he explained with a shrug, starting up the stairs. “It takes a bit of getting used to, that’s all. I’ve always loved your hair the way it is.”

The off-hand, matter-of-fact way he said it made her blink in surprise. _And I didn’t realise you even noticed_.

The Great Hall was a riot of colour and noise, and there was a fair bit of laughter from the other houses added to the din when the Hufflepuff chequerboard assembled itself along their house table. Michelle craned her neck to look all around; house banners hung alternately on the walls, and the tableware glittered under bright candle light, but most memorable of all were the smiling faces all around. Friends, housemates, fellow students. _This is the part that I’m going to miss the most_, she thought wistfully. _Ha! It’s like what Roger said, it’s about the friends you make along the way_.

When the last student had entered and the doors had swung shut, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet at the high table and held up his hands, and a sudden hush swept around the hall.

“Welcome, everyone! We mark tonight the ending of another school year and celebrate our many achievements along the way. Alas, as is the nature of these things, I must prevail upon your good will a little longer before we turn to the wonderful feast that awaits us.”

Dumbledore’s face took on a more sombre expression. “Twelve months ago, I stood here in front of you and marked the loss of an outstanding student and an outstanding young man. Since then, the storm clouds of dark and difficult times on the horizon have loomed ever higher in a year that has been demanding of us all. And yet, despite, that, my message and my plea to you all remains the same. We are stronger together than we are apart. Our strength is founded in unity and friendship and trust, and it is only discord and deceit that threatens to undermine us.

“With that in mind and after much consideration of the events of this year, I have decided that the House Cup will be shared between all four houses. Healthy competition is to be admired and encouraged. Losing sight of courtesy and respect for each other is not, and at times this year it has threatened the very stability of our Great House of Hogwarts as a whole. That it has not succeeded is solely down to the unity found in bonds of friendship and trust between students of all ages and all houses. I urge you all to nurture those bonds, and to tend those shoots of friendship that they may grow into mighty oaks, for I fear we may need them more than ever in the days to come.”

He smiled, and spread his arms wide, embracing the hall. “And what better way to strengthen friendships than to break bread with each other, as we do now! Congratulations to you all on your achievements this year, and - _tuck in!_”

He clapped his hands, and bowls and platters started to appear on the tables, to cheers from their occupants.

Mike sighed philosophically, and got to his feet. “C’mon, then, lads. One more time, now.”

Michelle watched Evan find a spot a little further down the table and start carving roast chickens. His movements were deft enough, and even if the results weren’t perfect, they were more than serviceable. It was heartwarming to watch him passing plates around, swapping a few words or a joke and a laugh with each person, happiness and good cheer all around, until everyone was eating and he could return to his seat by her side. On an impulse, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

He looked at her in mild surprise. “What was that for?”

She grinned around the lump in her throat. “Just because.”

Dinner gave way to dessert, and once that had been thoroughly demolished, people began to circulate between tables, friends gathering and passing between groups, talking, laughing, promising to meet on the train, until they gradually trickled back to their common rooms in ones and twos to continue the party there. Michelle and Evan went relatively early, not through any anti-social feeling, but simply because the farewells had been going on for some days and the whole thing was starting to drag. No matter how much she dreaded the final parting, she was almost becoming impatient for it, too.

The party in the common room was loud and raucous. As Dumbledore had pointed out, it had been a very stressful year, and especially with the uncertainty of the future with You-Know-Who’s return, they had well and truly earned a good blow-out. Mike and Maxi had also gone back early, and stopped by to tell them, “Boys’ dorm after Sprouty comes in ter tell us all ter shut up.”

Maxi nodded, “Ten o’clock. Like clockwork, every year. Anyway, boys’ dorm, yeah?”

Chris was the last one back, right on curfew - not that he would have been in any trouble for being out late with the Head Girl, and not that it would be enforced, in any case, but they still gave him plenty of stick for it, which he took with good grace. Sure enough, Professor Sprout came in on the stroke of ten.

“Good heavens, what a racket! Come on, now, can you at least keep it down to a deafening roar, they’ll hear you all over the castle…”

Equally true to form, the Hufflepuffs had her seated with a drink in one hand and a selection of chocolates under her other in record time. Watching Hannah Abbot pass their Head of House a toffee while a footstool wiggled its way under her feet, Michelle felt a nudge on her shoulder.

“C’mon, boys’ dorm,” Maxi reminded her.

They all piled in and found seats on the beds while Mike stood at the foot of his bed and reached into his trunk.

“Now then, I reckon we all deserve ter see our educations out in style, so I bought us a little something when I was back home fer Christmas.”

He held up a large, glass bottle filled with amber liquid.

Ravi chuckled, “That’s muggle booze, isn’t it?”

Mike shrugged, and cracked the seal. “The proper thing, muggle or no. Come, now, let me share a drink with me brothers an’ sisters.”

“I’m hopin’ I’m not yer sister, there, me darlin’," Maxi noted sarcastically, as Mike conjured heavy-bottomed glass tumblers and passed them around to everyone.

“I’m hoping you’re not his brother, either, or you really have been keeping things from us!” Tammy said with a grin, making the others laugh.

“Ya know what I mean, me bonnie girl! Gather ‘round, everyone.” He sloshed a generous measure into each of the glasses, and lifted his own. “I’m not one fer speeches, ya know me well enough by now. Seven years ago, I climbed aboard the train at King’s Cross a stranger in more ways than one. A foreign student, even if only from across the water in Ireland. A stranger ter this land, and a stranger ter all the others on their way ter Hogwarts. I had me hopes and fears, like I’m sure you did, an’ all, but I can honestly say it was the best thing that ever happened ter me. I fell in with the best group o’ mates I could ever wish fer. I even met a girl that’s mad enough ter love me just as surely as I love her.”

There were a few chuckles at that, although they came from rather tight throats.

“We had our ups and downs along the way. We had our fights. We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t, over seven years, but it’s been nothing compared ter the good times we’ve shared. We even lost one o’ the best friends ya could ever wish for - and no matter how much we’ve missed him this year, we’ve survived that, too.” Mike swallowed hard, “I just wanted ter say that no matter where we might go from here… I love yers all. Yer like my family to me. And you’ll always have a warm welcome, no matter where or when we meet. So - _Sláinte mhaith_! Let’s drink ter each other, and drink ter ourselves. Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

They all clinked glasses, and took a swig. It burned on the way down, making her cough a bit, and settled as a heavy warmth in her stomach.

“That was a hell of a speech for someone that isn’t one for speeches, Mike,” Chris noted.

“Ya know, I sat down an’ tried ter write it all out beforehand. Spent ages on it, an’ all.” He grinned, “Fergot the bloody lot of it the second I started, o’ course!”

“Then it came from the heart, an’ it’s the better for it,” Maxi observed. The usual fire and combativeness was gone from her voice, and instead it was soft and sincere. “You’ve got a good heart, Michael McManus.”

“An’ it’s surely yours, me dearest love,” he replied, just as seriously.

_Aww!_ She felt Evan squeeze her waist, and gave him a gentle smile in return. It wasn't often that they saw the softer side of their Irish friends.

It wasn’t all seriousness, though, and the conversation quickly became livelier while Tammy’s wireless pumped out music and they passed Mike’s bottle of Jameson’s back and forth between them. The only one that didn’t seem to be joining in much was Ravi, which was very uncharacteristic for him. Finally, Mike asked him, “What’s up, Ravi?”

Ravi shrugged and chewed his lip, getting to his feet and drawing his wand. “Something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve been practising, actually, so I can get it right. I’m gonna need something to stand on. You guys wanna give me a hand?”

Mike and Chris helped shove a chest of drawers over in front of the door, and Ravi jumped up on top. Maxi turned off the wireless and they all watched in silence while he worked on the stone lintel. Finally, Ravi climbed back down and joined his friends in staring up at his work in silence. Becky put her arm around him and gave him a squeeze, and Tammy kissed his cheek.

CEDRIC DIGGORY

17 Oct 1977 - 24 Jun 1995

Michelle felt a hand slide into hers and squeeze it tight. Even as they moved on with their lives and memories faded, the story of Cedric Diggory would live on in Hufflepuff every time a student in the room looked up at the neat, deeply-graven inscription and thought to wonder. It was also so very final, like the letters on the smooth, dark-grey headstone that rested in a Devon field.

It took Ravi several swallows to clear his throat. “To Cedric,” he said gruffly, looking around his friends and lifting his glass. “Loved. Missed. Never forgotten.”

“To Cedric.”

* * * * *

Michelle awoke with a head throbbing painfully, and a horrible, acid bubbling in her gut. She reluctantly opened her eyes, and found that even the dim light in her dorm hurt. Squinting, she clawed back the covers and slowly dragged herself upright, sitting on the edge of her bed while she breathed deeply and carefully and tried to keep everything where it ought to be. By reflex, she reached for her wand, and her hand bumped some unfamiliar items on her nightstand. She turned her head to look, and there was a vial of potion, a large glass of water, a little bag of chocolate bon-bons, and a note waiting for her.

_ Because I know my seventh-years well. Drink the potion _ _ first _ _!_

_ I’m going to miss you all._

_ With love,_

_ Pomona Sprout_

_Oh Merlin, I hope that's what I think it is! Well, here goes_. She pulled the stopper out of the vial with her teeth and slugged it back, shuddering violently at the taste. The effects started in her stomach, smoothing out the churn and softening the bilious bubbling. Slowly, she could feel it stealing through her body, easing the tremors and the ache in her bones, and gently soothing away her headache. After five minutes or so, she was exhausted but feeling a thousand times better. That meant that the memories of last night began to creep back in, however, and she had to fight the urge to put her head in her hands and whimper.

She wasn’t really used to alcohol beyond the occasional glass of wine at home, so if keeping up with the others when the second bottle came out had been unwise, joining in on the third was a rather giggly disaster. She had ended up trying to dance with Evan to the music from Tammy’s wireless - if she could stop herself from kissing him for long enough, anyway. It had ended up a rather unsteady, drunken sway-and-make-out session, which wasn’t a problem in itself, especially as she’d managed to ignore her friends laughing at them.

It was when she’d flopped down on his bed sometime after midnight that things really got embarrassing. She was light-headed and exhausted and just wanted to snuggle with him like she had that afternoon, but he wouldn’t let her. “But I wanna sleep with you,” she remembered demanding indignantly. Mike and Maxi, who clearly had harder heads than the rest of them, were absolutely killing themselves laughing, and Evan, caught between embarrassment and laughter himself, had finally been forced to scoop her up in his arms and carry her back out to the common room. “Whichever way you mean that, sweetheart, I think it would probably cause trouble, tonight. Come on, now. Maxi, stop that and give me a hand, will you?”

‘_Whichever way you mean that’. Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh dear_ God_, someone just kill me now! _Thankfully, she hadn’t understood why what she’d said was so funny at the time, and instead she’d just grumbled and sulked half-heartedly while Maxi steered her to her own bed and tucked her in. In the cold light of day, however, there was no hiding from the mortification. _They all thought I wanted to shag him! Well not that they’re wrong, by Merlin I really _do _want to shag him, it’s just that right then, all I meant was to crawl under the covers and curl up in his arms and fall asleep together. And they will never, ever believe that!_

She found herself yawning, and squinted at the clock. It was… way, _way_ too early. She roused herself enough to shuffle into the bathroom for a wee, then drank the glass of water on her nightstand and collapsed back into bed. She snuggled into her quilt, still wishing he was in there with her, and her mind was comfortingly full of the feel of his arms around her and the scent of his body as she drifted off once more.

* * * * *

It was nearing eight when she woke, and she could hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. She sat up and swung her feet onto the floor, suppressing a jaw-cracking yawn. Maxi was sitting on her bed charming her hair dry, but Becky was still an unmoving lump buried deep under her quilt.

“Morning, Maxi,” she whispered.

“Morning! I see ya found the potion all right, then.”

“Yeah, I woke up a while ago.”

Maxi chuckled and shook her head. “At least ya had the sense ter read the note. Poor Becky didn’t, an’ I think she’s thrown up everythin’ ‘cept her toenails.”

She cast a worried look at their friend, still lying motionless. “Is she going to be all right?”

“Yeah, Tammy an’ I got the potion in once everythin’ else had stopped comin’ out. It’s sleep she needs more’n anything, so we’ll give her a bit longer.”

She showered and dressed once Tammy had finished, gathering up the last of her toiletries and putting them in her trunk with everything else. Tammy and Maxi had already left for the common room, so she had one last check of all the drawers and cupboards, and clicked the latches on her trunk shut for the final time. She needed a few deep breaths before levitating her trunk and making for the common room herself.

The common room was bustling, some people half-dressed and half-asleep, others wide awake and munching on bread rolls from the table in the corner to tide them over until the leaving breakfast, and a few were slumped in chairs and seemingly asleep. She added her trunk to the pile by the fireplace, grinning at Susan and Ellie carefully drawing on a sleeping Justin’s face with their wands.

“Hey, you,” said a familiar voice from behind her.

She turned with a smile, “Morning, Evan!”

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, as they sidled out of the way of a pair of fourth-years levitating their trunks. “You really got stuck into it last night!”

He had a plate in his hand with a couple of rolls on it, and held it out to her enquiringly. She wasn’t sure how her stomach would take to food, but she could smell the heavenly raspberry jam and decided to risk it. That it gave her an excuse to stuff her mouth and not have to answer until her blush subsided was an added bonus.

“Fine,” she said at last, swallowing stickily. “Professor Sprout’s potion did the trick.”

He chuckled, “Well, at least you had the sense not to go for the bon-bons first. Poor Ravi!”

She had to smile, “I think Becky made the same mistake. We left her to sleep it off.”

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything more about her antics the previous night, just changed the subject. “Did you see Justin, just now? There’s going to be trouble when he wakes up!”

They watched Tammy bouncing all around the common room on a burst of hyperactive excitement while they talked, and Chris and a very uncharacteristically-rumpled Ravi joined them a few minutes later.

“Ugh, save us! That much enthusiasm is positively revolting,” he moaned. “Please don’t come any closer, you two smell like food.”

“Oh, Ravi!” she exclaimed sympathetically.

“Are you going to be all right when we go up?” Chris asked.

“Ah, he’ll be fine,” Mike said blithely, coming up behind them. “A couple of nice, fresh fried eggs, swimmin’ in butter, an’ he’ll be-”

Ravi bolted for the dorms with a hand clapped over his mouth.

“Mike! That was really cruel!” she said, trying to hide a laugh and feeling bad for it.

“What did I do?” Mike protested, despite his evil grin.

“You know very well! Now, go after him and sort him out,” Evan said firmly.

For a second, it looked like he was going to protest, but he caved in under Evan’s steady glare. “All right, all right, I’m going!”

They emerged about ten minutes later, and this time Ravi was looking much more alive, and smoking gently from the ears.

“I had a wee bottle of Abbott’s Hairy Dog fer those of us that needed it, but ol’ Sprouty had yers all taken care of,” Mike explained.

“Hairy Dog?” croaked another rough voice. It was Becky, towing her trunk and looking like death warmed up.

Mike turned, looked Becky up and down, and simply said, “Come with me, mate, yer salvation is at hand.”

Ravi took her trunk from her, and Michelle and Evan exchanged grins as Becky stumbled eagerly after him. Chris watched them go, shaking his head.

“It was a good idea at the time, I suppose.”

Evan smirked at her, but thankfully said nothing.

The common room was starting to thin out as people made their way to the Great Hall for the leaving breakfast. Mike and Becky returned a few minutes later, with Becky blinking rapidly and trailing thin wisps of smoke, and she slipped into the group next to Michelle, giving her a tentative smile.

“Ready, Michelle?”

She looked around and blew out a deep breath. “This is it. I guess I have to be.”

Maxi came bustling up to them, looking thoroughly annoyed. “Have yers seen Tammy?” she demanded. “She’s not gone up yet, an’ her trunk’s not in the damn pile.”

“Dunno. Probably still packing, knowing her,” said Becky, with a wan smile.

“Fer Merlin’s sake, she could start packin’ a month early an’ she’d still be late,” Maxi grumbled. “Come on, girls, she’s either ready or we’re draggin’ her out by her hair!”

She set off purposefully for their dorm, and the rest of the girls fell in behind her. Maybe it wasn’t a surprise to find Tammy standing at the end of her bed. She had her back to them, but at least her trunk was actually packed and closed and waiting. Something about her rigid stance gave them pause, though, even the impatient Maxi.

“Tammy?” Maxi asked cautiously.

Tammy spun around and flung herself into their arms, tears flooding down her face. “_I don’t want to go! I love you guys!_”

“Oh, _Tam_!” exclaimed a watery voice. It might have been hers. The four of them stood motionless for a long while, holding each other tightly, and Michelle found it hard not to tear up, herself. The aching hollow in her middle had nothing to do with want of food. _This is it, it’s all over. We’re never coming back here again, and everyday life with three of my best mates is ending right here and now_.

Finally, Maxi was the one to draw them back to reality. “We’ve got to go, now,” she said hoarsely, her voice a little unsteady. “Come on, Tam, you’ll be all right. Michelle, get her trunk, will ya?”

With Maxi and Becky supporting Tammy on either side, Michelle drew her wand and followed them with the trunk bobbing along behind her.

The boys were all waiting for them in the now-empty common room, and there were no snarky comments or jokes, just concern and sadness on their faces, too. Michelle added the trunk to the top of the pile, and with a final glance around their home for the last seven years, they set off as a group with Mike, Chris, and Ravi in the lead. Michelle followed behind the girls, taking the chance to hold Evan’s hand and try to draw her strength from his.

Tammy stopped at the doors to the Great Hall and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Hang on, hold up a minute,” she sniffled, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand until Chris conjured a handkerchief for her. She blew her nose and drew herself up to her full height with a proud jut of her jaw, taking one more deep breath and letting it out slowly. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

The Great Hall was packed, but their housemates had left eight chairs free at the head of the table for them, and a great selection of food was already waiting. Dumbledore sat at the centre of the entire Hogwarts staff at the high table, watching with a serene and paternal smile while they ate their fill one more time. Michelle was surprised to find herself putting away a good fry-up, and was lingering over the remains of a second cup of tea when a sudden silence fell and Dumbledore rose to his feet.

“Another year over, and for most of you, the start of a well-deserved summer holiday and a chance to rest and recharge. For our oldest students, however, today marks the end of their time with us at Hogwarts, and the beginning of the next chapter in their lives. I would like to invite them all to join us at the front.”

Michelle looked around and gripped Evan’s hand a little tighter as they stood. They filed forward to line up immediately below and facing the high table, first Slytherin on the left, then Michelle and her friends, then Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Roger Davies and Trish Stimpson, the Head Boy and Head Girl, stood just behind them in the central aisle between the tables.

“There is a literal and metaphorical symmetry that bookends their time with us at Hogwarts. They arrived in darkness, anxious and fresh-faced youngsters eager to learn, and now they leave us in light, not simply bearing with them the intricacies of magical learning, but also memories and bonds of fast friendship that may last a lifetime. Their scholastic and social achievements, their learning and their great friendship, is the result of enormous effort, enthusiasm and goodwill on their part, and it is something that they should feel hugely proud of as they stand here today before us. For that, my staff and I salute you.”

Dumbledore doffed his hat politely, and the staff bowed formally to them. They bowed in reply, then turned to face the rest of the hall. It was a little intimidating to see the whole school watching them, but behind them, Dumbledore continued his speech.

“In these anxious times, perhaps it is also a timely reminder that no matter how dark it may seem, dawn is never far away. A new day, and new beginnings. Let us all wish those of us who leave these walls for the final time today the very best in their own new beginnings. Farewell, and good fortune to you all!”

Led by Roger and Trish, they bowed to the rest of the school, and the voice of Marcus Belby, the sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect, rang out, “Three cheers for the senior class! Hip-hip-hip!”

The school cheered them raucously, and then Trish and Roger set off down the aisle and towards the Entrance Hall, the seventh-years falling in behind them. Michelle had to blink back tears, a massive lump hovering in her throat, and when they passed through the huge doors for the last time and down onto the lawn where their two neat lines broke up, she had to hug all of her friends one more time. All around them, the other houses were doing the same, and then friends sought each other out across the house divide, too.

A few minutes later, the enormous figure of Hagrid came down the steps, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief the size of a towel. “Follow me, please, everyone, follow me.”

Down the rocky passageway, down to the underground beach, where a flotilla of wooden boats awaited them. Her eyes were really stinging now. Hagrid’s voice was just as it had been so long ago.

“No more’n four to a boat! No more’n four, now!”

Evan helped her into one of the boats with a steadying hand, then joined her on the little bench, looking out over the stern. Tammy and Becky climbed in behind them, and she had to bite her lip to keep the tears from falling. Evan’s arm was wrapped around her, and she burrowed into that comforting embrace, trying to smother her shudders.

They were off, the boats gliding silently through the darkness until they passed one by one through the overhanging ivy and out into the light. She could feel the dampness on her cheeks, but Hogwarts soared mightily above them, the sun blazing on its old stone ramparts and many turrets, the windows gleaming and glittering like beacons. Behind them lay countless hours of learning and curiosity and intrigue and frustration and fun and boredom and…

She felt the arm around her shoulders give her a gentle squeeze, and she tore her eyes away to glance up at him with a watery smile. _And love_.

They sat in silence with their arms around each other and their heads together as the castle retreated across the rippling waters of the lake. All too soon, the boats grounded on the sandy shore, and they climbed out and took the steep path towards Hogsmeade, glancing back every few steps until they rounded the bend and Hogwarts passed out of sight for the final time.

* * * * *

The Hogwarts Express slowed as it passed Alexandra Palace, winding down from its top speed as it roared into inner London. In the front two compartments of the second carriage, Michelle and her friends sprawled against the seats and each other, exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before, and wrung out after a long and emotional day.

The first hour of the journey out of Hogsmeade was passed in a dazed silence, staring unseeingly out at the Scottish countryside and lost in their own thoughts. The arrival of the sweets trolley stirred them to life, and fortified with a large dose of sugar, they roused themselves to talk about the future.

“We’ve got a month ter ourselves before we hafta present ourselves at Gringotts in Dublin,” said Maxi, tucking her legs up under herself to make room for Mike to sit on the floor below her and sucking on a fresh sugar quill.

“Aye, not quite ter ourselves, though, is it?” Mike grumbled around a mouth full of chocolate frog. “Judgin’ by _last _summer-”

“And that’s more than we really need to hear already,” said Tammy, cutting across him with a grin. “I’m the same, though - four weeks of freedom, and then I’m off to Flyte & Barker in Cheltenham. They were looking for people in their R&D section.”

“Hey, nice one! When did ya hear about that, Tammy? Mike asked.

“Last week. I applied back at Easter and they didn’t seem all that interested, but I got a letter out of the blue telling me that I’d been successful.” She grinned at Mike and Maxi, “And no, I’m not going to be giving away free brooms!”

“That’s the only way you’d get me on a Twigger 90,” Maxi said archly. “Maybe ya can remind them a broom’s supposed to _fly_ first ‘n’ foremost, _before_ all the fancy crap they insist on loadin’ ‘em down with!”

That got a few chuckles, and Chris said, “I got a letter last week, too. No interview, though, I’m to get along to St. Mungo's as soon as I like. I think they must be desperate for potioneers, at the moment.”

“Gee, I wonder why that might be? Nothing to do with the lemon-faced knobcheese that teaches the subject, I’m sure,” Becky said acidly. “There must be a national shortage of advanced potions-makers, thanks to him.”

“Almost certainly,” Ravi agreed. “I’m a bit like Chris, except once I’ve got my N.E.W.T. results I’m supposed to owl someone, and they’ll set up an interview. So, no pressure, right?” He shrugged, “Dunno what happens if I fail the interview, end up in Centaur Liaison, probably.”

Becky just shook her head, “Yeah, no pressure. You guys are all so organised! I’m just going to wait and see what marks I get, then see where that takes me. My dad works for Gringotts, but I don’t know if I really fancy digging around in mouldy old tombs.” She shrugged, “There’ll be something.”

“What, ya don’t fancy bein’ an accountant like yer mam?” Maxi asked innocently, to another gust of laughter.

“I’ll give that a miss, thanks!”

Everyone turned to Michelle, and she pushed a strand of hair out of her face and said, “Well, um… I got a nice letter back from Ratchett & Klink. Mr. Klink wants to meet me once I have my results, but he didn’t exactly say anything about a job.”

“He wouldn’t be asking if there wasn’t one, though, would he?” Ravi pointed out.

“Yeah, so they must be interested, or they wouldn’t waste their time,” said Tammy. “I reckon you’re well in there, mate.”

That left one person, and it was inevitable that Maxi asked, “What about you, Evan? I still think ya should be a professional hippogriff wrangler.”

He said nothing, just shrugged awkwardly with his eyes fixed on the floor, and Michelle braced herself. _Here it comes, I suppose_.

“Is everything all right, mate? Mike asked in concern, after a glance at the others.

Evan sighed, and sat back in his seat. “There’s a chance it might not be here in the UK,” he said at last. “More than a chance, actually. It looks like my mum’s moving to Canada.”

“What? And you… but…” Tammy trailed off in confusion, gaping at him in shock like the others, then glancing sideways at Michelle.

He shrugged again, “We’ll see. It might happen, it might not.”

Despite their friends’ questions, he wouldn't say any more about it, but Michelle could feel Becky’s eyes burning holes in her neck, and it was probably inevitable that when she got up to go to the loo that Becky followed her, and was waiting when she came out.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she said, without preamble. “Of course you did. When did you find out?”

“March, I suppose, but I knew something was going on since Christmas. Come on, Becky, you must have noticed it, too.”

“Noticed what? That he was a bit quiet? So what, he’s hardly the most forthcoming at the best of times.”

Michelle shook her head in impatience, “How could you not have noticed it, it was right in front of you!”

“Just because it’s obvious to you doesn’t mean it is to everyone else,” Becky pointed out. Her look softened, “How are you doing? I mean, this impacts you just as much as it does him.”

_Yes, thank you, Becky, I really needed the reminder_. “You think I don’t know that? You think he doesn’t know that?” She forced out a breath, “Sorry. I’m… OK. For now.”

“And how long will that last? You know, my first thought was to yell at him for stringing you along for so long only to dump you like a self-centred prick, but now I think I should give him a hug. Or maybe both.”

“I think he needs a hug more than anything.” Michelle swallowed. “He’s always been close to his mum, of course, but there’s so many things that factor into it, too. And he’s always been someone who can make decisions, but this time, he can’t make everything balance up in his head, and I think it’s really been tearing him up.”

Becky let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing a little. “Would you go with him?” she asked quietly. “I mean, he’d marry you tomorrow if that’s what you wanted.”

“Becky! We’ve only been together for a few months!”

She snorted, “Yeah, _officially_, or whatever, but you’ve been the next-best thing for seven years already. Little Miss ‘I wanna sleep with you’!” she added, with a cautious grin.

Michelle felt all her blood roar into her cheeks, “That wasn’t what I-”

Becky cut her off with a disbelieving snort, “Oh, don’t even say it, you know it’s a lie! We’ve all had to watch you two having eye-sex ever since you got together, it’s only being at school that’s stopped you going further!”

“_Becky!_”

“Even then, there were times we were wondering if you weren’t just going to throw each other down on the table and get it on!”

“Oh, you’re impossible when you’re like this!” she snorted, and tried to push past her, but Becky threw up her arms to block the way.

“Hey, sorry! I’m sorry!” Becky said, not looking sorry in the slightest. “Anyway, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. He needs to talk to his mum to find out what she’s doing, and then go from there.” She forced out a shaky breath, “And then we’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

Becky watched her in silence for a moment, her grin fading. “You know, I was talking about Evan needing a hug, I think you need it twice as bad.”

They made their way back to their compartments together to find that Vinu and Trish had found them. Kenny and Lee had tagged along as well, making the compartment full to bursting.

“Oh, hey guys!” Kenny said cheerfully. “I was just saying that we could really do with a whole, open carriage to ourselves so that everyone could get together in one spot instead of having to jam ourselves in like this.”

“We’re definitely not all going to fit in here, anyway,” said Becky.

“Sorry for the invasion!” said Lee, with a smile.

“It’s all right, I was thinking of going and finding Alicia, anyway,” said Michelle. “Hi, everyone, by the way!”

“We’ll catch up later, then,” said Trish. “Two carriages down, on the right.”

“And watch out for that little brat Malfoy on the way,” Kenny added.

She found Alicia where Trish had suggested, sitting with Karen, Emma, and Angelina, and the girls made her welcome. One of the things that she’d always liked about her Gryffindor friend was her ability to read a situation and not only avoid things you didn’t want to talk about, but she was also good at steering others off those topics, as well. It made for a welcome diversion from her own problems to just relax and talk with her friends about their hopes and plans, instead.

She circulated amongst the rest of her friends for a while, too, but the lack of sleep the night before was definitely catching up with her. Eyelids sagging, she headed back to their usual compartments to find that she wasn’t the only one feeling the pace. One was still full of conversation, but the other had been charmed to be dark and quiet. Chris was already stretched out on one row of seats, snoring gently, while Becky slumped against the window on the opposite row and Ravi had the near end, squinting up at her through one partially-open eye.

“How are you doing?” asked a quiet voice from behind her. Evan must have followed her up the train after his own visits, and was looking tired and wrung-out.

“I’m knackered,” she admitted, “I don’t think I got a lot of sleep last night.”

“Me, either.”

They exchanged a look and slipped inside, casting a cushioning charm on the floor before curling up together at the foot of Chris’ row of seats. It wasn't the greatest bed in the world, but it was horizontal, quiet with the door closed, and the motion of the train quickly rocked her to sleep. The next thing she knew, someone was shaking her foot, and she cracked open her eyes, blinking in confusion before she recognised the long, flowing blonde hair.

“Tammy?” she croaked, with a shuddering stretch.

Tammy moved on to rouse Ravi. “Come on, guys, time to get up. We’re nearing Hatfield, so it’s not long now.”

_Hatfield. I must have slept for hours_. Her movements had woken Evan, and his arms tightened briefly around her before letting go and she could sit up and shuffle over to give him some room to get out of Chris’ way. Suppressing a yawn, she clambered slowly to her feet, then held out her hands to help Evan up, too. She couldn't resist keeping hold of his hands and stepping into his embrace, stretching up to graze his lips with hers and whisper cheekily, “See? I told you I wanted to sleep with you!”

She heard a quiet huff of amusement, and his arms enfolded her again. Ravi stumbled past with his hair askew, followed by Becky, and they joined them in stepping back into the golden late-afternoon light slanting into the rest of the carriage.

Maxi looked up when they all trooped in, before shuffling over herself to make room. Evan took a spot in the corner by the window, and she couldn’t resist squeezing in next to him where she could link her arm through his. It really was the last few miles of their school lives. All she could do was sit and watch the glittering windows of Alexandra Palace on the hill retreat behind them, and count off the remaining stations. Hornsey. Harringay. Finsbury Park. And finally, the long, slow crawl through the tunnel before the final few hundred yards into King’s Cross itself. None of them spoke, none of them moved, even after the train came to rest. She watched the waiting crowds of eager parents on the platform through wisps of steam with that damn, choking lump in her throat once more, and heard the excited voices of the younger students as carriage doors banged open and they flooded out to freedom and summer holidays.

At last, Maxi dragged herself to her feet. “C’mon,” she said hoarsely, and numbly, they began to gather their things and file into the corridor. Michelle and Evan were the last to go, but there came a point where she couldn’t put it off any longer. Her hand found his, and then it was only a few paces to the end of the corridor. He stepped down onto the platform first, then turned and held up a hand to help her down. She took a deep, shaky breath, and grasped it firmly. _Back to where it all began. And for us, it really is all over. _

And with that, she stepped down and into her new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And with that, we leave Evan, Michelle, Tammy, Becky, Ravi, Maxi, Chris, and Mike to start the rest of their lives. You may wonder why it ends here; initially, I had plans to continue on for a few chapters, but when I reached this point it just didn't seem necessary. Likewise, I tried writing an epilogue that I simply didn't like. Every time I read back over it, finishing here feels like the right decision. As Dumbledore points out, there is a beautiful symmetry to a story that starts with them getting on a train and ends when they get off again.
> 
> So that just leaves me to thank you for joining me on this trainride through the life of our 'background character' stars. I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Thanks also to the good folks of the HG Discord for tolerating me, my weird sense of humour, and my Hufflepuff goofballs. It's been a blast.


End file.
